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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25664758">Like, it's a Halloween Special, Scoob!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/reverseblackholeofwords/pseuds/reverseblackholeofwords'>reverseblackholeofwords</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubberSoles19/pseuds/RubberSoles19'>RubberSoles19</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Devil May Care [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Five Nights at Freddy's, MatPat - Fandom, NateWantsToBattle - Fandom, Supernatural, Youtubers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Another mystery!, Attempted Sexual Assault, FNAF!AU, Gen, Halloween Special, but the kiss isn't in a sexual manner, it's just a forced kiss but there is clearly no consent giving, light gore, light sexual assualt, ocs are faceclaimed! and they are Super Cute, supernatural!AU, well some of them are cute, you'll be warned beforehand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:40:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>54,293</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25664758</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/reverseblackholeofwords/pseuds/reverseblackholeofwords, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubberSoles19/pseuds/RubberSoles19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a few months since Matt got his little brother out from the boot of John Smith, and they have been on the run since then. The run is starting to wear both brothers out, however, and when another monster mystery from their pasts enters the picture, their trust in each other will be pushed to whole new levels.</p><p>In which: Matt and Nate are involved in another mystery despite their own interpersonal drama.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Matthew Patrick &amp; Nathan Sharp, Matthew Patrick &amp; Rosanna Pansino, Matthew Patrick/Stephanie Patrick, Nathan Sharp &amp; Rosanna Pansino</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Devil May Care [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Who Are You, and What Have You Done with Nathan Smith?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A single bead of sweat dripped down the side of Matt’s face. The air in the room was dry and cold as ice. The scent and taste of blood stained every breath and the tip of his tongue. He was aware, though vaguely, of the activity just beyond the walls, the people outside screaming and running from the monsters that prowled the halls. But Matt only swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at his brother’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate watched him closely, his hands raised on either side of himself, that easy smile on his lips trying to tell Matt to calm down, to think about this, to reconsider, anything. Matt could almost see his pulse in his neck, the shaking in his hands. His wide brown eyes kept switching between Matt’s face and the gun in his hands, cocked and aimed at Nate’s heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Matt had made his decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he squeezed the trigger.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pasadena, TX<br/>
</span>
  <span>October 2011</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The TV set played </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gilmore Girls </span>
  </em>
  <span>reruns in one corner of the drab motel room as Matthew Patrick slept, arms and legs twisted up in the sheets of one of the two beds. The other was empty, untouched, and the clock on the bedside table, its green numbers casting a faint glow over the beige wallpaper, read 3:13 AM. Matt had waited up as long as he could, listening for the telltale growl of the Firebird’s engine, but exhausted from their latest hunt, he’d fallen asleep somewhere around one o’clock, his laptop folded underneath his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At 3:14 AM his phone started to ring, and Matt woke up with a jolt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat up, rubbing at his eyes grumpily and fumbling around for his phone amid the covers and loose pages of notes. When he finally found it, he squinted at the Caller ID. It wasn’t a number he recognized, but he flipped the phone open anyway and pressed it to his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door to the holding cell clanged as it slid open, the sound of it echoing down the hallway. With a beefy police officer standing just behind him, Matt peered inside the blinding white cell to see Nate huddled up on the bench with his leather jacket - stained in vomit - draped over his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was fast asleep until the sound of the door opening woke him with a start. He sat up, rubbing his head and smacking his dry lips. The world was one big, white blur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nathan Smith?” The cop called loudly, way too loudly for the pounding headache behind Nate’s eyes. “Your ride is here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally Nate’s vision focused enough for him to see Matt’s scowling face, and he winced. Shutting his eyes again, Nate groaned, “Oh joy,” and rolled back over.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Matt slung his silver Prius into the motel’s cramped parking lot and hit the breaks, none too gentle with his ailing passenger who lurched as the car stopped and covered his mouth. He reeked of bile and several kinds of alcohol, all burning Matt’s nose as his already burning nerves jolted with the memory of the cop reading him off just exactly what Nate had been arrested for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He killed the engine, tore off his seat belt, and slammed the car door shut behind him, leaving Nate to sulk in silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His ears ringing slightly, Nate turned his hazy eyes towards the motel door. He knew what awaited him on the other side, another lecture, another plea for Nate to snap out of whatever downward spiral he’d started on. Nate had heard it at least a dozen times in the last two months. He and Matt’s two-man mission to survive the world together hadn’t been going as well as they had hoped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hadn’t even made it three whole months and already Matt was ready to send Nate packing straight back to John.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Nate extricated himself from his own seat belt, with more trouble than it should have been, kicked his door open, and stumbled back to the motel room. Inside, Matt was bustling around like a good little worker bee, but Nate set his sights on his bed and smiled. “Hello, beautiful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flopped down on it face-first with a contented sigh that was cut off at the end by another lurch of his uneasy stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt paused in his furious packing to glare at the back of his brother’s head. “What do you think you’re doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m trying to get some beauty sleep,” Nate replied, muffled by the pillow his face was buried in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slamming a stack of pants into his suitcase, Matt snapped, “Tough luck! I just had to bail you out of jail, Nate. Jail!” He shook his head. Sure his brother’s recent binges had been problematic to say the least, but that had only been Matt’s problem. Until now. Now he'd sent some drunkard flying through the front window of a bar, and they had to get the hell out of Dodge. “Get packed! We're leaving.” Matt shut his suitcase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate grumbled something unintelligible and pulled one of the pillows over his head to muffle the sounds of Matt’s tinny, high-pitched ranting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt sighed and stopped again. “Nate! You want John to find us or not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brother turned his head to the side, uncovering his mouth just long enough to mutter, “Who cares,” before burying himself in the pillows again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Matt gasped, feeling his blood pressure spike even higher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate raised his head as one pillow fell to the floor. He glared, or at least attempted to glare, at Matthew and spat, “I said, who cares. At least he'd let me get some sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt bristled in rage and gripped his hands into tight fists at his sides, his fingernails biting into the skin of his palms. He could handle Nate’s anxiety, his poor manners, even his bad attitude, but this…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, oh, he lets you sleep? And doesn’t he also hit you? Force you to cut your hair, change your clothes, walk and talk like his good little soldier? Is that why we've been on the run from him for </span>
  <em>
    <span>three months</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Matt raised his fists to either side of his head and dug his knuckles into his temples. “Why we have to blaze a trail out of town now, in the middle of a hunt, because he's just that swell of a guy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes, Nate turned over in bed, punched his pillow, and pulled the covers over himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like that, Matt’s rage froze over as cold as the ninth circle of hell. He dropped his hands to his sides again, crescent moon-shaped cuts etched into his palms. “Good to know you appreciate all the sacrifices others make for you. You know, if he does find you, don't bother calling for another rescue.” Matt pulled the straps of his bags up onto his shoulder. “I'm going home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate watched him fling open the door and disappear outside, winced when the door slammed shut behind him, but he just snuggled back into his pillow. Let Matt leave him. Let him finally run home to Stephanie and his stupid cat and his perfect little life. Nate just wanted some sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Outside, Matt tossed his bags into the back of his Prius and slammed that door shut too. There weren’t enough things to slam, and soon he found himself crouched against his car, punching his thigh, and trying to get himself under control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why hadn’t he left yet?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why wasn’t he five miles down the road and counting, leaving the motel and his deeply screwed-up brother behind?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Better yet, why was he there in the first place?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he knew why - every older sibling instinct in the book was on high alert screaming to the rooftops why he couldn't just let his stupid little brother wander drunkenly into the sunset. Matt slumped against the car. Like it or not, he couldn’t leave Nate, not even then. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and sighed. Besides, if he did leave Nate high and dry (or soaking wet in booze), his mom would definitely kill him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he pushed himself to his feet, rubbing the place on his thigh where a bruise was most likely forming beneath his jeans, and headed back in the direction of the motel room. He was just about to open the door when Nate appeared. His bags were packed and ready to go, his hair all fluffed up on one side, and he ambled past Matt to the Firebird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt huffed, got into his Prius, and sped off before Nate could finish throwing his things into the trunk. He watched the rear view mirror, though, until he saw the Firebird pull onto the road behind him. Sighing, Matt turned on the radio and settled in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was going to be another long drive.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Corpus Christi, TX<br/>
</span>
  <span>A few hours later…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Hold ‘Em Motel boasted the best nightly rates in town, and Matt hoped it was true because with all the hopping they’d done from town to town in the last few months, he’d quickly burned through what cash he’d brought with him, and he’d started refusing any of Nate’s “hard earned” funds so not to encourage any bad habits. He got out of his car just as the Firebird pulled into the spot next to him and headed into the front office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a short exchange - he’d become a pro at getting a room with as little small talk involved as possible - Matt left the office with a key in his hand and a desire to do nothing more than pass out for a few hours. The sound of a dog barking caught his attention, however.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the street from the motel, a girl, probably in her later teens, was walking - or rather, being walked by - a scruffy chocolate and caramel mutt. He barked at two passing strangers who sped up at the sight of the riled-up little creature. And the girl tugged helplessly on his leash, trying to get the dog to slow down for her, but the little guy seemed anxious and didn’t respond even when the girl dropped some of the papers she’d been clutching to her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quiet, Branch! Sit, sit!” she called desperately. The poor girl seemed exhausted, and eventually she gave up. She let the dog drag her along, further down the street and out of Matt’s line of sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rubbing his neck, Matt headed towards his room and spotted Nate leaning into the trunk of the Firebird, digging out headache medicine. He looked like crap, skin pale and yellowish. He wore an oversized military jacket with a patch reading “Smith” over one of the chest pockets and cheap sunglasses that hid the black eye he’d gotten in the fight that had landed him in a holding cell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of Matt wanted to give in, apologize to his brother for blowing up last night, and try to make amends. The other part of Matt carried him into his room and locked the door behind him. Dropping his bags to the floor just inside, Matt stared at the single king sized bed in the room and sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could really use some shut-eye.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>A couple hours later after what had been a fretful, nightmare-filled rest, Matt was tucked into the corner booth of the Cattle Cafe, complete with appropriate fixtures such as a wagon wheel mounted on the wall, several cow skulls, and a few dollar-store Halloween decorations to boot. With his headphones in - after spending about a week in Texas, he’d already grown tired of the country music that played in every diner and gas station - he browsed local news on his laptop. His half-eaten lunch sat mostly forgotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waitress made her way to Matt’s table with a smile and a pitcher full of sweet tea. She was a seemingly normal young woman who did not cryptically offer him the cure for vampirism or try to tear his throat out like the lady in Tennessee who had turned out to be possessed, so Matt smiled back at her politely and pulled his headphones out as she asked, “How is everything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, everything's great, thanks. Tell me,” he glanced at her name-tag with another polite grin, “Clara, if someone interested in the best attractions the nation had to offer found themselves here with some free time on their hands, where should they start?” He gestured towards the roadmap partially unfolded on the table and glanced up at her, bashfully adding, “Roadtrip, my little brother and I, sort of a family bonding thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clara thought a moment as beads of water glanced down the side of the pitcher and dripped onto some of Matt’s notes which he inconspicuously moved out of the way. “Well, the Aquarium's always good, you can go visit the islands…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I'm thinking more local, less tourist. Small time stuff.” Those were the places that usually had a story worth digging into, and if nothing else, Matt was pretty sure he couldn’t afford a ticket into an aquarium anyway, as much as he’d love to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humming a bit, Clara eventually shrugged her shoulders. “I'm not sure you're the type, but I hear there's a couple haunted houses around town for the season.” She wiggled her eyebrows a bit. “Those're always good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haunted houses - just what he and Nate needed after weeks of hunting monsters, people running around in masks chasing them with fake knives covered in paint. But he smiled anyway and tried to seem interested. “Maybe. Any of them feed into local lore? Got your own Texas sized chupacabra?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt really needed another job to distract him from… well, everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honey, we're a tourist town,” Clara told him with a well-meaning sigh. “If something like that happened, people'd know it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It figured. Matt drummed his fingers on the edge of the table a bit and shrugged. “Fair enough. Thanks anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clara gestured towards his empty glass of Diet Coke. “I’ll get you a refill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, thanks.” He handed the glass to her and wiped his hand off on his jeans before reaching for his headphones again. About to settle back into browsing, Matt glanced out the window of the diner to see a familiar pup tied to a No Parking sign staring back at him. As if he could tell Matt was watching him, he barked once, ears alert and tail tucked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His owner, the young girl from before with all the papers, appeared in the doorway of the restaurant and headed for the front counter where an older woman sat behind the register. The girl wore an oversized denim jacket decorated in colorful pins, her hair woven into braids that just brushed her shoulders, and Matt recognized the dark gray bags beneath her eyes as a sign she probably hadn’t slept in days. When she spoke to the woman behind the register, she spoke with her hands, accompanied by the jangle of several metal bangles on her wrists clinking together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon a male waiter was called over, and the three of them seemed to be having some kind of a disagreement as the young lady shook her stack of papers, which was considerably smaller than before. She persisted for a few moments, her voice raising in pitch and drawing some more attention from other customers before the waiter eventually turned her away and showed her to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt watched her go back to the dog on the street, her shoulders shaking slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quickly, he snapped his laptop closed, gathered his things into his backpack, and tossed money onto the table before ducking towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, the young lady was still trying to untie the dog’s leash from the sign. It’d been wound around and around the pole with the dog’s anxious movements, and she seemed to be having some trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” Matt asked cautiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned to him in shock, and the dog, Branch, lunged for him suddenly to protect his fearful owner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt put up his hands and backed away a step, not wanting to make either of them feel threatened, especially if it meant avoiding getting bitten. “Hi, I don't mean to intrude, but I saw you inside just now trying to talk to the lady at the register and that waiter? Guess they weren't very helpful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fretting with the end of one of her braids, the girl sighed, obviously annoyed. “They aren't the first. You'd be surprised-” Then, as if remembering that he was a stranger and not to be trusted, the girl clammed up and went back to working out the knots in Branch’s leash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he dug out the fake badge Jonathan had left him with, Matt gave the girl his most-winning smile and recited, “My name is Detective Matthew Towers, FBI.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She narrowed her eyes at him once she’d finally worked the leash free of the pole and stood up again. “What’re you doing in Corpus Christi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not a bad question.” Matt blushed a little. Even after the months he’d spent on the road, he still wasn’t used to lying to total strangers so blatantly, but if Matt had learned anything from Nate, it’s that you had to start small and the partial truth never hurt. “My partner and I are passing through. We're between cases at the moment. Miss, do you need some kind of help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl still seemed skeptical of him, and the dog at her side whined, tugging on his leash. She glanced from the dog to Matt before finally handing over what Matt instantly recognized as a missing person flier. They’d become all too familiar in recent months.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s my little brother,” she explained while Matt looked the flier over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beneath a black and white picture of a sweet little six or seven year-old boy with the girl’s eyes, Matt read the name “Steven Wells” along with instructions to call Nancy Wells with any information and a phone number. He glanced back up at the girl. “I guess that makes you Nancy?” She nodded, lips pursed tightly. “What happened to your brother?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy shifted from foot to foot, her gaze darting around somewhere behind Matt. “I saw him get taken. Nabbed by something and a - a cloth put over his face. I guess it put him to sleep because he-” Her breath started to come in sharp hiccups, but she looked like she’d had enough of crying and quickly calmed herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt furrowed his brow and took out one of his many small pads of paper to start taking down notes. “Where did this happen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“<em>Gallagher's</em>,” Nancy replied quickly, rising onto her tiptoes to watch what he wrote down. “But no one believes me. The cops think I'm nutty and refuse to even look at the place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt nodded and jotted down what Nancy had said so far until the name of the place she’d said finally registered with him. He looked up. “Wait - Gallagher's? What Gallagher's?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reluctantly she told him, “<em>Old Gallagher's Haunted House</em> just outside of town,” as if she suspected that he too wouldn’t believe her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Matt hadn’t asked her to repeat herself because he found the story particularly unbelievable. It was because he recognized the name, and he wasn’t happy about it either.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Come One, Come All!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You know you missed the kiddos.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Medina, OH<br/>
</span>
  <span>October 2001</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nathan Smith, twelve years-old and still wrapped up in his favorite black hoodie, laid on his belly across his beanbag, shifting his attention from the Pokemon magazine that Mary had bought for the boys to the Composition notebook that he was meticulously recreating certain Pokemon in. He’d scratched through a few previous attempts at drawing Squirtle with a pair of killer shades, but his latest version seemed almost perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Music blared through the headphones he wore, and he tapped the toes of his sneakers against the floor in time with the beat. So he didn’t hear the sound of the door opening behind him. A masked figure, tall and lean, edged closer and closer to Nate until he was just a few inches away, curled over the young boy and ready to pounce. And then -</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boo!” Matt shouted and grabbed Nate’s sides for a split second before the younger boy spun around, fists raised and ready to fight. But Matt surged backwards to avoid Nate's first swing, staggered over to his bed, and flopped down onto it, giggling loudly and clutching his sides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The instant Nate tore off his headphones, he recognized the high-pitched laughter immediately and kicked his brother in the leg. “Matt!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older brother pulled off his cheap monster mask, his face somewhat sweaty and pink from the plastic, and tossed it aside. At the sight of the embarrassed flush of color in Nate’s cheeks, Matt tried to stifle his laughter, just a bit. “Dude, some monster hunter you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sneer, Nate grumbled, “Well, excuse me for trying to have some fun for once in my life.” He’d very recently discovered the fine art of guilt-tripping, which he’d become a master at in just a few short months. As if it wasn't bad enough that Matt was already constantly worried for him anyway, now he had to feel guilty about it, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate flopped back down onto the beanbag and went back to his drawing. Matt’s stupid scare had made Nate drag his pencil lead across his perfect Squirtle drawing, so he went about carefully erasing the mark so he didn't have to scrap the whole thing. Matt jutted out his bottom lip and crossed his arms underneath his chin where he laid across his bed, looking down at his fuming little brother. “Oh come on, Nate, don’t be like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?” Nate growled and blew eraser bits off his page.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like this!” Matt gestured towards his brother, at his pitiful </span>
  <em>
    <span>Give me attention, I’m obviously sad</span>
  </em>
  <span> state that Matt knew far too well. Drawing Pokemon was one thing, but listening to “Mr. Blue Sky” on repeat through his headphones was just too much. It was all the classic signs of Nate wanting his big brother to make his day better, but he certainly wasn't going to make it easy on Matt. Oh no. But it was an old dance that Matt could likely follow the steps to in his sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on," Matt sighed, “you've been doing nothing but pouting all week, and this is the best week of the year, if I remember eleven-year old Nate, correctly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grumbling, Nate replied as he swiped away the last of the eraser pieces and went back to work drawing, “Well, maybe eleven year-old Nate was a freaking idiot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Matt reached forward from his bed, snagged the beanbag, and pulled it out from under Nate in one great tug. Nate rolled to the floor on top of his scattered band books and a few dirty socks and shirts. While triumphantly, Matt tossed the beanbag to the other side of their small room. Nate rolled over and glared up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You jerk! Cut it out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt hopped off his bed and slid across the floor on his knees to lean over his little brother, hands on his hips. “Nathan Smith, it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Halloween</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The best event of the year, and the single night I know you've gone nuts for every single year since you were nine.” He poked Nate’s cheek while Nate swatted at him. “That was only three years ago. You can't change that much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try me!” Nate shoved Matt away from him and stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars arranged across the ceiling. Sure, maybe he usually loved Halloween. Maybe it used to be his favorite time. Put on a mask, scare the crap out of his wimpy nerdy brother, demand candy from everyone you meet - it was the perfect holiday. But this year... Nate turned his face away from Matt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Huffing at Nate's refusal to drop the melodrama, Matt leaned back and stretched himself across Nate’s stomach, tucking his hands behind his head like he was lounging in a chair beside a pool on a sunny summer's day. Nate squirmed beneath his brother, but being a few years older, Matt still outweighed him by a couple pounds. So it didn’t take long for Nate to give up the fight and accept his fate. He was still the little brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt grinned up at the ceiling. “Come on, Nate! Let's go do something!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?” Nate grumbled. “Put on a cheap costume and pretend I'm one of fifty Robins running around the neighborhood getting candy from sketchy people we've never even talked to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt turned his head with a grin, poking at Nate’s face again. “Are you still bitter about not being Batman?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate jabbed at Matt’s side. “No, I-” But then he gave up fighting and flopped back down again instead, pouting even harder if that was possible. “I just don't want to do anything this year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but</span>
  <em>
    <span> I</span>
  </em>
  <span> do. We never get to see each other anymore as it is!” Matt sat up and looked down at his little brother whose expression had gone dark. “Between the school play and honors club and you still being in middle school, what chance have we got?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At his sides, Nate's hands balled up into fists. “I'm not the one that went to high school a year early,” Nate grumbled and rolled away from Matt. He flipped through his notebook, all the pictures drawn there, until he found his Squirtle, but by then, he’d lost all motivation to draw and let the notebook drop closed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt watched his little brother, that familiar guilt churning in his stomach. He knew that the last few months had been hard on the kid, now that they were going to different schools, and Nate didn’t mention it but Matt thought maybe the visions Nate saw were getting worse. Sometimes, he'd just go silent, wouldn't talk for hours, even when Matt did his best to press him. Or worse, he'd disappear altogether and wouldn't come back to the house until after dark, and Mary would hide just how worried she'd been behind scolding him for the mud on his shoes or the fact that he didn't wear a coat when it was so cold outside.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>They used to do everything together, even the things that got them into trouble. But lately, Matt felt like they were on two different planets. So on what should've been Nate's favorite night of the year, Matt just wanted to spend some time with his little brother, no matter what it took.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if…” Matt sighed and shut his eyes. “... I took you to... that big haunted house outside of town?” He opened one eye to gauge his brother's reaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate rolled back over again and sat up, crossing his legs in front of him. “The Old Gallagher?” He raised an eyebrow at his older brother and stifled a giggle. “The one that everyone has been talking about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt scrubbed the sides of his face, smooshing his cheeks and slumping forward a little at the idea of actually going to that place… and making it out alive. “Yes, The Old Gallagher, the one that everyone has been talking about for the endless amounts of gratuitous horror and jump scares.” He flashed a thumbs-up and a bright but sarcastic smile. “All for only $17. Each.” Which would easily eat up a good amount of his allowance he'd been saving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unable to stop the giggles that bubbled up out of his chest, Nate combed his bangs back from his face to get a better look at Matt's suddenly somewhat-green complexion. “Wait, are you serious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it will get you out of the house…” Matt whimpered slightly and moved his hands to cover his eyes. “... Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate considered that for a moment. It would be nice to spend some time with his brother, especially if that time included Matt screaming like a little girl. So finally he smiled and tried to appear smug. “I bet it's not even that scary. It's probably just cheap plastic masks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I bet it is.” Then another idea crossed his mind, one that brought a smile to his face instead, and Matt wiggled his eyebrows excitedly. “One condition, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instantly suspicious, Nate leaned back a bit and squinted at his idiot older brother who seemed way too proud of himself for anybody’s good. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still grinning mischievously, Matt fished his wallet from his backpack and then nodded for the door. Nate would just have to find out on the way.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a quick trip to Medina High’s costume closet - Matt knew where they hid the spare keys since Mrs. Flowers was famous for losing them - the brothers stood, dressed somewhat convincingly as Professor Oak and Ash Ketchum. Nate just so happened to have a stuffed Pikachu backpack that came in handy and a full size Pokeball keychain, so all he really needed was the trademark red and white cap which they’d been able to find a pretty close version of in the prop trunk. And Matt had been coveting the white lab coat hanging in the back of the costume closet for some time now, which he wore over a dress shirt and khakis.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blaring bass-heavy music pierced through with screams and the sounds of rattling chains rolled out of the front door across the mostly vacant lot as the boys peered up up at the old warehouse that had previously been abandoned before Old Gallagher's set up shop there for the season and had transformed the place into a horror-lover’s utopia. The place was a collage of busted windows, hanging tarps splattered with fake blood, and flickering strobe lights - certainly not a haunted house for the faint of heart even from the outside. Matt gulped, and even Nate looked a little unsure as they joined the back of the line waiting to buy tickets to get inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The things I do for love…” Matt muttered and stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of the lab coat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh please,” Nate grumbled, “it’s just…” Matt peered down to see that his little brother’s eyes mirrored his own as far as fright-level. “...Fake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt grinned. At least he wasn’t the only one close to peeing his pants. “Uh-huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both looked ahead simultaneously, sighed, and moved forward in the line. Near the entrance, a booth was set up to look like a padded cell with a barred window where the worker inside, dressed as a psych ward patient, sold tickets. Matt shuffled up to them and dug out his wallet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two - two please,” he requested, voice cracking a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he’d paid for the tickets, Matt stepped up to the entrance only for Nate to make some mumbled excuse about wanting to use the bathroom before darting off to one of the porta-potties that sat in a line a few yards away. Matt figured he was only stalling, but was grateful that he didn’t have to go in immediately either, so he didn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he waited though, Matt noticed a kid not much older than himself - not wearing a costume but instead a bright orange shirt that said “Costume” on it and a green hat that made him look somewhat like a pumpkin - arguing with one of the staff members. “I know you did something to him!” the kid shouted and poked his finger into the worker’s chest. “I know you screwed with his head!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worker, an adult man in a polo and khakis, so obviously a little above your average actor, shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Sir, we're a haunted house. It’s our job to mess with people’s heads, but we don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you did, I know you did!” the teenager argued so passionately that his hat nearly tumbled off his head. “He came here with his friends and - and you did something to him! He's not himself!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noticing that Matt and a few other patrons still in line had noticed their shouting match, the man finally took the kid around back of the warehouse even as they continued to argue, and Matt watched them go, suddenly even more deeply worried about taking his little brother inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as if on cue, Nate reappeared, shoving at Matt’s side and grumbling, “Hey! No spacing out on me. You haven't lost enough marbles for that just yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt blinked down at him and stole short glances back in the direction of the teenager who had, by that point, disappeared around back with the worker. “Yeah, sorry. Uh,” he handed Nate his ticket, “here you go! I don’t know why I’m excited about this.” He shivered a little bit. “Maybe it’s nausea, not excitement…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate rolled his eyes, typical pre-teen style, and pulled Matt towards the entrance, but just before they entered, Matt stole one last worried glance in the direction that the other boy had disappeared. Maybe this wasn't such a hot idea, after all. Maybe they should turn back while they still had the chance and Matt could even ask for a refund. Once inside, though, he was far too distracted to worry about that other kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What might not have been all that scary to anyone else was terrifying to the Patrick-Smith boys who had seen their fair share of real-life, living and breathing monsters - at least from the backseat of John’s truck. They bumped, dodged, and shoved their way through crowds of other guests, actors in horrifying costumes, and props spilling liquid nitrogen and fake blood. All the while, Matt kept a hand on Nate’s shoulder or arm so he wouldn’t lose sight of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The farther they ventured, the more intense the scares became until they were suddenly forced forward into a maze of hanging, plastic sheets that warped and shifted around them. The moment that Matt saw the silhouette of a man with a hook for a hand through one of the tarps, though, he hit the breaks and tried to turn back the way that they came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! No no no, I'm good! I'm good!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Nate shoved him forward with all his strength, shouting, “Matt - move! Go! We're going to get run over!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt shook his head wildly. “That's okay, I'd rather take my chances with the other guests than - OH GEEZ!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone lunged at them suddenly through the plastic, and both boys screamed, scrambling over one another and tripping in a mad attempt to escape. Getting back to his feet, Matt shouted, “Poop on a brisket!” before hauling Nate back to his feet and darting down another passageway through the red-spattered plastic maze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the plastic tarps seemed to be getting closer and closer together, making them switch back in the direction that they’d come, and Matt was starting to get claustrophobic as he had to continually push the sheets back away from his face. He and Nate stuck close together, Matt using his extra inches of height to almost shield his younger brother from whatever might jump out at them, but they hadn’t gotten much further before another shadow lunged at them. They separated to avoid being grabbed, darting in opposite directions as the tarps shifted again to swallow them, and in the span of a split second, Matt lost sight of Nate. And he was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that moment, all other fear melted away to uncover the one, most terrifying fear that Matt had - losing his kid brother. “Nate? Nate!” He raced back in the direction that he thought he’d come from, but with the movement of the plastic, he couldn’t be sure. Finally, he ran into one of the actors who roared menacingly at Matt, but rather than reacting, Matt just grabbed the man’s arm, shouting, “Hey - hey! I lost my brother, my little brother!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The actor, from behind the ski mask he was wearing, blinked down at Matt and raised his chainsaw, revving its motor, but Matt just rolled his eyes and yanked the chainsaw away from him. “Are you listening to me?! I lost my little brother!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing in annoyance, the actor took back his chainsaw and turned away back into the maze, and Matt turned in a circle, looking for any other sign of movement among the maze. The music blaring from speakers hung overhead drowned out whatever sounds Matt might listen for, and aside from that, his heart beat was pounding in his ears, louder and louder the longer he was separated from Nate. As he pressed forward, Matt finally stumbled out of the maze and into what seemed to be almost like a backstage area. He clearly wasn’t meant to be there, but at that point, he didn’t care. He needed to find his brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nate! Nate, where are you?!” He continued searching until he saw someone ahead of him. It was the teenager from before, the one in the green hat who had been arguing with the worker, and Matt rushed to him. “Hey! Hey, kid! You said something was wrong with your brother, right? What happened to him because I - I can’t find my little brother anywhere! He’s just gone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Matt finally caught up with the other boy, the kid didn’t react to him, and Matt froze. Frowning, he grabbed the teenager by his shoulders and spun him around to face him, but something was wrong. The kid moved like a machine, stiff and janky and twitching, blinking lifeless eyes at Matt. Then suddenly, as if he’d been struck by a burst of electricity, he came to life, giving an unnatural smile. “I never lost my brother! Nothing was wrong at all, just a silly mistake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned away, eyes too wide, smile too tight, movements too stiff, and Matt watched him go with an even greater sense of dread twisting like a knife in his stomach. He had to find Nate and quickly. Something weird was going on at this place, and Matt didn’t like to think of his brother lost there somewhere where he could be easily snatched up and - and…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt felt like he couldn’t breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next moment, though, someone grabbed him from behind, and fully prepared to punch them in the throat like John had taught him and run, Matt whirled around to find the chainsaw-wielding actor from before had returned. Matt was about to tell him off for trying yet again to scare him when he was clearly not in the mood, but then the guy pointed back towards a back entrance to the warehouse where a polo-wearing employee stood with a bashful, sullen Nate at his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pushing past the actor, Matt sprinted towards them and swept Nate into a bone-crunching hug. Relief made him dizzy as he clung tight to the scrawny little brat, and Matt swore to himself he'd never let the kid out of his sight ever again as long as he lived. Nate’s jaw dropped a little, stunned by how terrified Matt seemed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Looking down at his little brother, Matt swept a hand over the top of his head. “You scared me to death! I thought I lost you!” When Nate didn’t say anything, Matt pulled back and looked him over to make sure he wasn’t acting all mechanical and creepy like that other kid had, even shooting a warning glare at the worker standing nearby as if they might’ve done something to Nate, but other than the blush burning in his cheeks, Nate seemed like his usual self.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” Matt asked, taking Nate’s shoulders in his hands. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate dropped his head, frowning down at the floor. “I… ran off on purpose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt sucked in a breath. “You what?!” He was glad that Nate was okay, really he was, because now Matt was going to kill him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to get you back for scaring me earlier!” Nate shouted defensively but then shrunk in on himself again when he looked up to see the flurry of emotions behind Matt’s eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd freak out so much you'd start throwing punches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Matt hung his head and knelt down in front of Nate. He tugged the kid closer and looked up into his big, brown eyes behind his mop of hair. “You're my little brother, Nate. I would literally kill a man to protect you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate stared at him, jaw slackened in shock and a little starry-eyed. “Seriously?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little less sure of himself as he tried to imagine actually killing someone, Matt chuckled nervously. “Yeah! It's no </span>
  <em>
    <span>big deal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I mean, it's just </span>
  <em>
    <span>murder</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So what, right?” Though Matt had to admit, there were a few moments there where he thought he really could do it, if it meant protecting his little brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate smiled when he saw that Matt wasn’t actually mad at him and hugged his neck suddenly. Matt, surprised for a moment, quickly hugged him back. He was just glad that Nate was safe; that was all that really mattered. Then, he ruffled Nate’s hat and stood up. “Hey, I think I've still got a little crap left in me. Let's go get it scared out, shall we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still grinning, Nate nodded. “I promise I’ll stay close this time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you will!” Matt reached out and took one of the straps of Nate’s Pickachu backpack, pulled it loose, and wrapped it around his hand like a leash. “And I'm going to make sure of it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate laughed as Matt led the way back towards the maze of tarps where they’d left off in their tour, but as he did, he spotted that other kid in the corner of his eye again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was watching them, with glazed-over, unnatural eyes and an equally strange smile.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Calm Down There, Nancy Drew</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Someone give Matthew a hug.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Corpus Christi, TX<br/>October 2011</p><p>Later that afternoon, Matt’s Prius pulled to a stop across from a two-story, blue farmhouse in a secluded part of town. The lot was full of dead, leafless trees that looked almost like specters themselves, and the building had recently been fitted with all the telltale fixtures of an Old Gallagher’s Haunted House - blackout tarps in all the windows, the haunting music carrying down the street, plus a few new tricks and treats that they’d gained since Matt had last seen them.</p><p>He didn’t want to take a step closer than he had to, but Nancy and Branch flew past him, both with a look of brave determination. Matt sucked in a breath through his teeth and hovered beside his car. “Nancy, are you sure this is the place?”</p><p>She didn’t look back at him as she stalked closer to the house, Branch’s leash wound tight around her hand. “I know where I last saw my brother, ‘Agent’! Now are you going to help me or not?” Finally she turned back to him, and Matt knew that look in her eyes.</p><p>Nothing on Earth, or under it, was going to stop her from finding her little brother.</p><p>But finding them didn't always mean the problem was solved - Matt thought to himself and felt a stab of guilt deep in his gut. Nancy took Matt’s hesitation for indecision and rolled her eyes, continuing towards the house with Branch whining at her heels. As she approached the front porch, a balding man in an orange t-shirt and suspenders appeared from the door and rushed towards her. “Miss Wells - please, for the hundredth time-!”</p><p>“I know my brother is in there, Cliff! You can't hide him anymore!” Nancy shouted in his face, hers going red with anger. Branch gained a new frenetic energy at the sight of the man. The little dog barked and pulled against his leash which Nancy considered releasing at any moment. They were quite the pair to be reckoned with.</p><p>Cliff raised both his hands defensively and stole a glance in Matt’s direction as if he expected Matt to step in and stop her, but with that look in Nancy's eyes, Matt didn’t think there was anything he could do to save Cliff now. So the man huffed, “Ma'am, I'm sorry you lost your brother, but you have no way of proving he's on these premises, especially since you weren't even here yourself when he vanished!”</p><p>Matt raised both eyebrows at that. Nancy had claimed that she’d seen what had happened to her brother. Had she really lied to him about that of all things? Of course, Matt hadn’t known her very long, but still, she didn’t seem the type to lie about a crucial detail in her brother’s disappearance.</p><p>As they stared one another down, Nancy fumed.</p><p>Finally, Cliff put a hand to his chest. “So why don't you run on back to Home Eq, yeah? Nancy Drew?” He made a shooing motion with his other hand and tried to turn away.</p><p>Nancy, understandably livid, launched herself at Cliff then, and Matt jumped in just in time to hook one arm around her waist and haul her backwards a step. He understood that older sibling rage better than anyone, but he couldn’t very well pretend to be a federal agent and then let her tear this man’s face off.</p><p>No matter how much he deserved it.</p><p>Disentangling himself from Nancy, Branch, and the leash, Matt flashed his badge, muttering quickly, “Agent Matthew Towers, FBI.”</p><p>“Oh, for the love -” Cliff started and then looked around Matt to Nancy again. “You really are asking for trouble, aren't you?!”</p><p>“Well, when you take my brother hostage-” Nancy began, but Matt could tell that this argument was getting them nowhere fast.</p><p>He held an arm out between them to keep Nancy from throwing herself bodily at Cliff again and shouted, “Alright, that's enough! What's the issue here, Mr...?”</p><p>The man swept a hand over his head where a layer of sweat had started to form from this short but tense exchange. The weather there in Texas, despite the time of year, was still pretty warm, and if Matt didn’t know better, he could convince himself he was back in California. “Clifton, Clifton Gallagher,” he introduced himself and then jutted a thumb back at the building. “I run this place.”</p><p>“Yeah, a front for your child kidnapping ring!” Nancy shouted over Matt’s shoulder, Branch barking along with her like back-up.</p><p>“Oh, like you expect me to be scared of you!”</p><p>“I guess it’s easier to do if you lure them to you!”</p><p>"Stop it!" Matt brushed both hands through his hair in frustration, his voice snapping through the air between the three of them and cutting off the argument again, “That happens one more time and I'll handcuff you both!”</p><p>“Officer-” Cliff started.</p><p>“<em> Agent </em>,” Matt snapped, feeling more than a little petty.</p><p>Cliff took a deep breath in through his nose, visibly annoyed with both of them. “<em> Agent </em> , this <em> young lady </em>,” he said in Nancy’s direction as if he meant something much less kind, “has been harassing my employees and place of business for days now, even yelling at my customers and sicking her ferocious dog on them!”</p><p>On cue, as if he could understand he was being insulted, Branch barked loudly and aggressively, tugging on his leash again. Nancy’s jaw dropped, and she wound Branch’s leash an extra time around her hand. “I have not!”</p><p>“Tell that to the restraining order!” Cliff mocked, turning to one side as if he might try to leave again, but Matt wasn’t going to let him get away that easily.</p><p>“Well, did it ever occur to you, Mr. Clifton, that a sibling will do anything to get their family back?” he asked, an edge in his voice that made Nancy look up at him in shock. Matt was only barely suppressing his own rage. Whatever was going on there - child kidnapping ring or not - this man had to be hiding something.</p><p>At that point, Cliff had lost all patience for both of them. He stepped forward, his face directly in front of Matthew’s as he spat, “We don't have her brother! Or anyone's else brothers! Or sisters!”</p><p>Cliff and Nancy devolved into another shouting match as Matt took a step back. Finally, once he’d collected himself again, Matt interposed himself between them. “Miss Wells claims to have seen Steven being assaulted at this location. I'd like to come in and look around.”</p><p>Cliff crossed his arms over his chest, his face beet red now. “Do you have a warrant?”</p><p>Instead of dignifying that question with an answer, Matt just leveled a glare at Cliff that made the older man squirm.</p><p>He wasn’t leaving until he got what he wanted.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They searched the place from top to bottom, every room, every corner, every crevice, but they found no little brothers hidden away among the props set pieces. As they left with Cliff watching them from the porch like a vulture perched in a dead tree, Matt began to wonder if Nancy hadn’t lied to him after all. But no, one look at her face told him that - whatever else was true - Nancy believed that something had happened to her brother there inside that house.</p><p>She stalked back to his car with her hands curled into fists. “I don't know where he took Steven! Maybe - maybe there's some other location they have, or he was lying! He has to know something!” Branch seemed equally as upset, curling around her ankles the moment she stopped walking.</p><p>As he walked around to the driver’s side, Matt dug out his keys and took a steadying breath before he looked back to the young girl, her frazzled nerves showing in the tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. “Nancy, your brother isn't here," Matt said as gently as possible. "I'm sorry, but he's not.”</p><p>“I know what I saw!” she insisted with a hand pressed to her forehead, her shoulders shaking like she was only a few moments from coming apart at the seams.</p><p>Matt wished he knew how to make her feel better, but he knew that nothing short of bringing her brother back safe and sound would ease the fear and guilt twisting inside of Nancy. “I'm not doubting you,” Matt assured her instead. “But if he is here, I'm going to need my partner to help me find him, and no offense, but dragging you and Cliff apart every three steps didn't exactly help our search in there.”</p><p>Nancy’s head dropped in shame, her shoulders slumping. Matt rounded the car to stand in front of her and reached out a hand to take her arm gently. Branch made a nervous whine, but Matt smiled down at him before looking back up to Nancy’s face again. “Hey, I'm going to find your brother, Nancy. I just need some time.”</p><p>From the corner of his eye, Matt spotted his reflection in the car window and saw something - someone - else in his eyes for just a moment. He shivered and took a step back from Nancy, his skin going cold. “In the meantime, please stay away from this place. If they are planning anything, your hovering is only going to complicate things and make my job harder. Okay?”</p><p>Nancy took a deep breath, a little shaky, but she nodded, a new resolve in her eyes as she looked up at Matt.</p><p>Rubbing the goosebumps from the skin of his arm, Matt took another step back from her. “Thank you. Now try to get some rest. I'll let you know when I find anything.”</p><p>Nancy brushed her fingers quickly beneath her eyes to clear away the tears clinging there, and she nodded again. “Thank you.”</p><p>Matt offered her another sympathetic smile and Branch a few gentle pets before he watched the two of them head in the direction of Nancy’s car. Once Nancy had driven away, Matt got back into the Prius and opened the door to get in. But not before he noticed that Cliff still watched him from the shadow of the front door.</p><p>Dropping into the driver's seat, Matt checked his eyes in the rear view mirror and, thankfully, found them clear. He slowly took his first full breath since he'd noticed the change and nodded before turning his glare back to Cliff.</p><p>Matt wasn’t leaving this town until he found Nancy’s brother, no matter what.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The shades were drawn over the windows of Room 9 at the Hold ‘Em Motel, and Nate sat, bent over the desk, wearing the same clothes from the previous day, rumpled and wrinkled as if he’d slept in them. The “Smith” name patch spread stark over his heart on his dad’s old coat, like a piece of armor or a brand. He switched songs on the beat up iPod beside him on the desktop, bobbing his head to the music blaring in his ears as he went back to his drawing.</p><p>Lamplight played across the surface of the beaten Composition notebook, one of the few his dad hadn’t thrown out when he made Nate clean out the back of the Firebird. Leaning closer to the page, Nate scribbled furiously in thick lines of deep blue and black. His fingers were stained with ink as he shifted the angle of the notebook and started again, shading, thickening the lines, scratching so hard at the paper he nearly tore through in some places.</p><p>Frantic, fractured, furious - his concentration was shattered suddenly by his phone rattling across the desk. Blinking at the device as if he'd forgotten what it was for, Nate yanked out his headphones. A bad recording of the Pokemon theme song played from the small phone, and he swept it up, looking nervously at the caller I.D.</p><p>He flipped it open and answered. “Yeah?”</p><p><em> “Which room is yours?” </em> Matt asked tersely.</p><p>Nate glanced over at the open notebook on the desk - a grotesque amalgamation of his recent nightmares - Charlie’s childish features distorted by the blue tears pouring down her gaunt face, Afton’s sharp, scythe of a smile full of jagged teeth, and at the center of it all, another face with eyes full of rage and a slash of a mouth biting out a command.</p><p>John.</p><p>Swallowing, Nate flipped the notebook closed.</p><p> </p><p>A few moments later, Matt slipped into Room 9 as Nate stuffed the notebook back into his bag and zipped it up, avoiding Matt’s eyes. The room was somehow already a mess, the bed unmade, Nate’s duffel spilling its contents all over the floor, and the evidence of whatever meal he’d eaten strewn about the desk. Wrinkling his nose, Matt walked to the other side of the room and threw open the curtains.</p><p>Nate winced and shielded his eyes, grumbling flatly, “Come on in, make yourself at home.”</p><p>Matt glanced around, and the room appeared somehow even worse in the light. “Well, it’s about as dirty as you always kept your room.”</p><p>Nate’s hands twitched. He was sick and tired of hearing about how much of a slob he was, from Matt or… anyone else. Nate swept some of the trash from his lunch into the bin beside the desk, avoiding eye contact. “I was just doing you a favor. You're the one that loved cleaning.”</p><p>Matt scoffed. “It certainly prepared me for the rest of my life, didn't it?”</p><p>Yeah, a life spent cleaning up after Nate - and that thought sent a sharp pain through the younger brother’s chest. Matt knew it. Of course, he figured Nate probably didn’t get a lot of sleep. He'd spent at least part of the previous night in a holding cell, drove the rest of it with a serious hangover, and even when they did have some quiet down-time, Nate rarely slept more than three or four hours at a time. So Matt almost felt guilty, almost.</p><p>“So,” Nate muttered and dropped back into the desk chair, “you find a job?”</p><p>Matt crossed his arms over his chest and propped himself against one of the walls. “Actually, yes. Nancy Wells, nineteen, and her little brother, Steven, seven.”</p><p>Nate rubbed his eyes and continued to avoid looking up at his brother. “Not ringing any bells.”</p><p>From the back pocket of his pants, Matt drew out a small pad of paper where he’d scrawled a short list of names that he’d found from checking the local papers. “Well, how about the Hampton Family? Little Esther, thirteen years-old, and her twin brother, Andres. Or Bessie and Jessie Stanley, nine and fourteen and a half. Plus three other families, all from around here.”</p><p>That felt somewhat familiar, at least. Nate finally glanced up at his brother, though warily. “You think this is Afton?”</p><p>“No, no - no new blackout sessions filled with murderous intent, thanks. Not that I know when they happen.” That serrated edge worked its way back into his voice, and Nate thought he was going to be sick if he had to listen to Matt bring that up one more time. “Or that anyone tells me when they do.” Of course, Matt knew that hurt, too, saw the way Nate’s eyes pinched at the corners, and part of him felt almost satisfied.</p><p>But he decided to be merciful and not twist that particular knife any deeper. “But there is one name you should recognize: Old Gallagher’s Haunted House.”</p><p>Nate frowned and stole another short glance at Matt, not following.</p><p>“You don’t remember?” Matt asked and felt that cold and empty place inside him yawn open again.</p><p>But Nate shook his head. “No.”</p><p>Matt raised an eyebrow, leaning towards his brother a little. “You really don't remember the year I dragged you to this huge haunted house after you whined and grumbled about how much Halloween sucked?”</p><p>Nate looked just about as shocked as if Matt had reached out and slapped him across the face. “I love Halloween!”</p><p>“You didn’t that year,” Matt grumbled, leaning back against the wall again.</p><p>Nate’s frown deepened. “You’re making it up.” The joke doesn’t exactly land, that or Matt refused to budge from the bad mood that Nate had put him in. So, Nate swept a hand over his face and gestured vaguely towards his brother. “It's starting to ring a bell, I guess. Didn't you always say you saw something weird at that place?”</p><p>“Yeah, because I did.” Matt shuddered a little at the memory. It had haunted him ever since that day, especially knowing that it could’ve been something supernatural and that they’d come so close to getting caught up in it themselves. And that it had gotten away - whatever it was. “I saw a teenager claim that his little brother went to Gallagher's and came back different, and then later saw the teenager himself, but some kind of - I don't know, fake, cheap, soulless replica of him.”</p><p>Nate stared at him a moment, his jaw flexing, before he slowly nodded.</p><p>Matt frowned. “What?” It’s not like Nate could claim that it was an unbelievable story. They lived “unbelievable” every day.</p><p>“So you think we're dealing with ‘Invasion of the Body-Snatchers’ lead by Mike Myers?” Nate asked with just the hint of his familiar smirk.</p><p>Matt glared at him. He was starting to think it was impossible for Nate to take <em> anything </em>seriously anymore, even several missing children. Matt ground his knuckles deep into the side of his upper arm as he crossed his arms tight over his chest. “I don't know what it is. All I know is that there are tons of kids going missing all in the same area and the only lead I have is one sister barely out of high school who swears up and down she saw her brother get nabbed inside Gallagher's.”</p><p>Rubbing at his forehead, Nate turned his face away. “Imagine that. Siblings tearing the world apart to find the other.”</p><p>“<em> I </em> don’t have to,” Matt muttered and turned, pacing a few steps away.</p><p>An awkward, heavy silence settled between them, and Nate bit down so hard on the inside of his cheek he could start to taste blood. They both wanted to say something. They both wanted to say a lot of things, but what good would any of it do? And quickly the strain became too much. Nate grabbed for his boots, shoving them on his feet.</p><p>“Well, good luck, Doctor Bennell. You're the brainiac here.”</p><p>Matt’s attention snapped back towards Nate who stood once he’d laced up his boots and brushed a hand through his greasy hair. “Sure," Matt grumbled, pushing off the wall, "because since when do you actually go hunting? Or care about anything?”</p><p>“I care,” Nate said with a frown and patted his stomach. “Right now, I care about… egg salad.”</p><p>“What?” Matt snapped.</p><p>Nate grabbed his keys and tossed them from one hand to the other. “I'm going to find some place around here that has egg salad. I am then going to purchase and consume said egg salad, since I haven't eaten anything since…” He muttered to himself, “Did I eat anything last night?”</p><p>“You know, you could always <em> help </em>me. <em>You’re</em> the hunter here, after all,” Matt spat, stalking towards Nate who took a few steps in the opposite direction as he did. Matt froze, his hands curled on the back of the chair Nate was just sitting in. “‘Saving people,’ I thought that was the deal with the ‘family business’?”</p><p>Nate dropped his head, clutching his keys a little too tightly as he whispered, sarcastic and barbed, “I am saving people. I'm getting out of your way so you can go out and be the hero we both know you are.”</p><p>Nate left quickly then, and the door slammed shut behind him. “Nate! Dammit!” Matt slammed his hands down on the chair and pushed it over. He should’ve known.</p><p>He should’ve known this would happen. They couldn’t be a team; they couldn’t even be brothers, not after everything that had happened, not with the ghosts in their heads. Matt felt that cold pit inside of him tremor as if something were trying to pull itself out, and he crammed his balled-up fists against his stomach like he could push it back, keep it at bay. He didn't care what Nate did, if he had given up completely.</p><p>Matt wouldn’t let Afton win.</p><p> </p><p>Outside, Nate swung himself inside the Firebird and shut the door. After a few tries, she growled to life, but Nate’s heart sank when he watched the fuel gauge hover just a breath above empty. He knew that his wallet wasn’t fairing any better. Glancing back towards the motel room, he thought - but no, there was no way he was asking Matt for gas money.</p><p>Instead, he pulled out his phone and searched for the closest bar. Because he might not have his guitar with him, but he knew a few more ways to earn some quick cash.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The Blood of the Vine was a typical dingy bar only a couple blocks from the motel where people who seemed a little further than Nate down the road of alcoholism gathered around games of poker or pool tables, cheering loudly over the crackling noise of old country songs playing through the single busted speaker behind the bar. The night was just kicking off. A few games had already started around the room. But one in particular near the back of the smoke-filled bar drew most of the patrons' attention.</p><p>People gathered around the pool table, dropping odd bills into the plate getting passed around. A young woman with short, dark hair and layers of flannel and leather, clearly the house favorite, eyed Nate up and down as he lined up his next shot. Leaning forward against the opposite edge of the table as she watched him, the neckline of her shirt left little to the imagination, Nate noted with a cocky smirk.</p><p>And sank the eight ball.</p><p>Most everyone around cheered, a few clapping Nate on the back, and a few more grumbling and shuffling back to the bar for refills. The young lady across the table set down her cue stick and applauded with the rest. Someone slid the plate of Nate’s winnings towards him, and he pocketed the cash.</p><p>“Good game and good technique, too,” the woman said, slipping through the crowd towards him.</p><p>Nate grinned, letting his slow, wandering gaze drink her in. “You’re not so bad yourself.” He plucked a few of the bills from his wallet and held them towards her between two fingers, an eyebrow raised.</p><p>Smiling, she took the cash.</p><p>A few moments later, Nate’s back hit the outside wall of the bar - his mind a fantastic, dull haze through hungry, feverish kisses. When the young woman drew back, Nate gave a breathy laugh and dug his keys from his pocket, slinging them once around his finger. She glanced over her shoulder to see the Firebird and smiled.</p><p>“Oh, you’re my new favorite person.”</p><p>Nate grinned proudly, wiggling his eyebrows as he followed her to the car. They climbed in, the doors slamming as the radio blasted, and they tore out of the parking lot.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Back at the Hold ‘Em Motel Room 6, Matt sat at his laptop, staring through bleary eyes at the police reports for the missing children as he had been for a few hours. But he still had nothing to show for all his research. The TV played in the corner. He couldn’t stand the silence, but every now and then, the station would turn to static. And Matt would be reminded of the bursts of static from the voice boxes of the rotting animatronics in Afton’s basement. The chill would creep up his arms, and he’d quickly change the station, finally settling on a telenovela, as he continued to read. Anything to distract himself.</p><p>Outside, Matt heard the familiar sound of the Firebird pulling up, and his hand perched on the top half of his laptop as if to close it. He almost went outside to check on his brother, only to hear the sounds of a woman’s laughter and a door slamming shut. Sinking back into the chair, Matt rolled his eyes.</p><p>Unbelievable.</p><p>But the longer he stared at the screen, the angrier he got, and finally, he shot up from his seat and paced the length of the room, back and forth. He needed to calm down, he needed to get a grip on himself before he - Matt grabbed a paper cup from beside the sink in the bathroom, filled it with water, and sipped slowly as he tried to quiet his fried, frazzled mind. As he leaned against the wall, breathing steadily, he spotted his phone charging on the nightstand.</p><p>In two quick strides, he crossed the room, unplugged the phone, and pulled up Stephanie’s contact listing before he’d really had time to think about it. Staring down at her picture, his eyes filled up with tears. Matt wanted nothing more in the world right then than to call her.</p><p>Or see her.</p><p>God, he missed her.</p><p>He missed her so much it hurt.</p><p>But he couldn’t call her, couldn’t tell her where he was, what he was doing, that his brother was being such a phenomenal pain in the ass, or that Matt was actually losing his mind. Finally, before he did something stupid, Matt switched contacts and called Ro instead.</p><p>He was met with excited squealing on the other end of the phone and chuckled, holding the speaker away from his ear for a moment until Ro had calmed down a little. “Hey, Ro! ... I know, it's been a while. Three - three months.”</p><p>Matt glanced towards his laptop, the hours of research that had gotten him nowhere. He needed his resident expert. “Look, I hate to do this to you, but I'm in over my head with this latest hunt... No, no, I don't need Jimmy.” Matt smirked, breathing out through his nose. “Course, he could beat some sense into my current partner... No, it's fine, I could just use some advice…”</p><p>He swallowed, shutting his eyes. “Ro - how is she?” A slow smile crossed his face as Ro spoke, but it was cut through by the effort it took to hold back more tears. “Trust me,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking, “I’m - I'm dying without her, too.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Creatures of Nature</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In which everyone is disappointed in/annoyed with Nate, including himself.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Corpus Christi, Texas<br/>
October, 2011</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun was just coming up the next morning, the waking world glistening with a fine layer of frost, as Matt returned to the motel with a small cardboard tray of coffees, his phone pressed to his ear. He sighed when the call wasn’t answered and marched his way to the door of Room 9. Slipping his phone into his pocket, Matt pounded on the door and listened for any sign of life inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nate! Nate, I've called four times! Get up or else I'll come in and get you up! You know I can!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door finally opened, but it wasn’t Nate standing on the other side. Instead, it was a tall young woman with her short, dark hair in a fluffy mess around her head. She flashed a smile at Matt, combing down the stray auburn waves and slipping the flannel she wore a little further up her bare shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt huffed. “Good morning. Is Nate awake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She checked over her shoulder, smirking a bit. “He's still pretty out of it. Maybe you'd better come in and wake him.” The flannel shifted as she moved aside for him, and Matt caught just a glimpse of, well, most everything before he averted his eyes, his face turning a deep shade of red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nate!” Matt shouted, a little annoyed and a lot uncomfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside the room, somewhere in the darkness, he could hear Nate’s grunt of complaint, followed by a thud as he rolled out of bed, literally. Then a head appeared over the edge of the mattress, blinking and frowning up at his brother. His face was criss-crossed with pink pillow case impressions, and his hair stuck out in all directions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Matt?” He rubbed his head and shifted his gaze to the young woman - Vic. To her, he gave a sloppy smile, still obviously half-asleep. “Hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Vic laughed as Nate pushed himself up and came to the door, wearing nothing but his boxers himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt tried not to roll his eyes too obviously at Vic’s expense as he handed over one of the coffees to Nate. “Up and at ‘em. Got a job to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate frowned down at the coffee in his hands as if he could only barely manage to keep his eyes open and was attempting to focus on something, anything at all. As he did, Vic continued to giggle at his struggles to wake up before Matt held a coffee towards her, too, still avoiding looking at anything below her eye-level.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smirked, somewhat surprised. “A gentleman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A creature of habit,” Matt muttered, and unfortunately, this new habit of needing to buy three coffees in the morning was becoming the one thing about his brother he could predict anymore. Of course, Nate was an adult. He could do what he wanted with the free time he had between hunts, but that didn't mean that Matt had to like it - or think it was healthy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate stared at the ground - at least he still had the decency to blush about it - as Vic raised an eyebrow and snatched the coffee from Matt. She disappeared back into the room, leaving the brothers standing in the doorway avoiding eye contact. Matt rubbed the tension from his forehead and sighed, saying, somewhat softly, “Just hurry up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing the door and backing away slowly, Nate nodded. “Uh… ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he shut the door between them, Matt turned away with a sigh and glanced over the weed-riddled parking lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing to do but wait.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boys arrived in the Prius outside a modest suburban house about half an hour later. A cow skull hung proudly on the bright red door, the yard littered with autumn leaves and a few Halloween decorations. Hand-carved Jack-o-lanterns sat on the front porch beneath rubber bats hanging from fishing wire, and Matt poked at a suspicious-looking ghost. Provoked by the movement, the ghost’s eyes lit up red, screaming at Matt, and he jumped back from it right into Nate who was still half-asleep and rubbing his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Swapping a few awkward glances, the boys arranged themselves in front of the door before Matt reached out and rang the doorbell. They waited there in the suit jackets they’d picked up at a thrift store a few towns back, Nate wearing his over a pair of black jeans while Matt had bothered to splurge on a pair of black slacks that almost fit him. Nate yawned and continued nursing the cup of coffee in his hand while Matt peaked inside through a window beside the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, the front door opened, and the boys both flashed their fake badges with varying levels of a polite smile to go along with it. It didn’t take much convincing for the Hamptons to let the boys in, lead them into their living room, and invite them to have a seat. It was incredible what a fake ID could get you, Matt thought to himself, not for the first time, and realized once again how very illegal his life had become in the last few months. Wouldn't his mother be proud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The living room was something straight out of a horror movie set, with stuffed animals and dolls sitting on most every surface and stacked in piles in the corners among the other Halloween decorations. As Nate blinked at a particular stuffed pig that seemed to stare into his very soul, wondering if he were somehow hallucinating it or not, Mrs. Hampton returned from the kitchen with coffee for the two of them. His eyebrows shot upwards at the sight of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he took his mug with a grateful bow of his head and a quiet, “Thank you,” since he’d just polished off the last of the cup Matt had bought him and was still feeling sluggish at best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brightly, though maybe a bit too brightly, Mrs. Hampton folded her hands in front of her and asked, “What brings the FBI here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys stared at her a moment and wondered if she was being facetious. She watched them back, her glittering brown eyes never once wavering from their smile lines. Matt cleared his throat. “We were going to ask you some questions about your missing kids.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Hampton came to stand beside his wife, draping an arm around her waist, and they swapped a weighted glance before laughing quietly. Nate raised an eyebrow at them - more than a little put off by their too-white-teeth smiles and strange posture. They had bad vibes coming off them in waves. “Problem?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding,” Mr. Hampton said, equally as bright as his wife and somehow even more unnerving. He didn't blink, ever. “Our kids are back! Safe and sound!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt and Nate exchanged a short glance before Matt shifted awkwardly where he sat on the too-soft couch that he was sinking deeper into by the second and stared up at the couple like he could read their minds if he just tried hard enough. “I’m sorry, they’re what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Hampton raised a hand to her mouth, eyes wide. “Oh, you poor thing, I guess you didn't get word. We called up the sheriff just this morning to drop the missing persons case.” Matt was so stunned that he found himself staring at this oddly chipper woman for much longer than would be considered polite. The thought that Mrs. Hampton looked just like a still life painting crossed his mind, though, “Surprised Middle-Aged Woman (Oil on Canvas),” a too-perfect, picturesque version of emotion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess he hasn't finished spreading the good word yet!” Mr. Hampton added as the conversation lulled, never dropping those perfect, symmetrical smile lines.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I guess he hasn’t,” Matt echoed as he realized that the coffee mug in his hands was seriously burning his palms. He set it aside with a strange twist in his stomach, the scar in his left palm itching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you called the sheriff this morning?” Nate questioned somewhat lamely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” Mrs. Hampton told him, not following.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate glanced over his shoulder at the bright morning outside, unmarred by even a single cloud. “But it’s still morning?” he asked, annoyance creeping into his tone as he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. and Mrs. Hampton frowned at one another, and Matt made a face before turning and glaring at his brother. Nate ignored him. Mrs. Hampton attempted to salvage the conversation, taking a seat across from the boys in a stylish armchair. “Well, it was earlier today, at least. Poor darlings walked right up to the front door and let themselves in.” She glanced up at her husband who gave her a reassuring smile. “After that I called the sheriff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind them, the sound of two pairs of light footsteps came skipping down the stairs, and Mr. Hampton turned towards the noise with a tightness in the corner of his eyes that made Matt nervous. “Well, speak of the little devils!” Hampton called and beckoned his children over with a wave of his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two children, Esther and Andres, got to the bottom of the stairs and froze at the sight of Nate and Matt who stood up awkwardly. Matt recognized their faces from the police reports, even though he was certain there was something... off about them. Nothing seemed to be wrong with them - no obvious scrapes or bruises or anything of that sort - only they had the same glassy look in their eyes. And the way they stared, cold and untrusting, at the brothers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you two doing?” Mrs. Hampton asked and rushed to the children’s side as if she expected they might disappear again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Hampton brushed a hand down the front of his crisp button-down and stole short glances towards the brothers with his nauseatingly polished smile. “I thought we told you to get some sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl, Esther, curled a finger through her long, dark hair and blinked up at the two strange men standing in her living room looking very confused. Then her wide, innocent gaze shifted up to her father’s face instead. “We missed you, Daddy. We wanted to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Hamptons swapped a tearful gaze, apparently very moved by their children’s devotion. The entire thing seemed staged, an act played out for an audience if Matt had ever seen one, but he just couldn’t figure out why. Crouching down to hug both the kids close to her, Mrs. Hampton turned to look at the boys. “I'm really sorry to have wasted your time like this, gentlemen, but as you can see, they're fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt’s fingers plucked nervously at the tie around his neck and adjusted it. “Have you taken them to the doctors at all? See if they're hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Hampton’s hold on her children tightened. Her eyes narrowed. “We would know if our children were hurt, agent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, can we talk to them?” Nate asked, obviously impatient to get this over with. The longer he was in this place, the more his skin was beginning to crawl. Something was wrong, and right then, he wanted nothing more than to strip off the stupid, cheap suit he was wearing and crawl back into bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Hamptons scowled at him, and Matt twitched uncomfortably, trying to offer the annoyed parents a polite smile to appease them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andres, the little boy, shook his head and grabbed for his father’s hand. “I don't want to talk to the strange men, Daddy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me either, Daddy,” Esther began to cry - as if by the flip of a switch - and tucked herself behind her mother. “Mommy, send them away.” Her parents shared a conflicted look above her head as the brothers stared in silence, unsure of what to say or do. But Esther only continued to cry. “Please, Mommy, they’re scaring us!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andres clutched tighter as his father’s hand, pulling harshly on his arm. “We just want to stay here! With you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate rolled his eyes, his very short supply of patience quickly waning. “We only want to ask a couple questions, and we'll be out of your hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agent-” Mrs. Hampton began, but Nate brushed her off, stepping closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were locked onto the children, that same static sensation underneath his skin and his fingernails, the awareness that something was wildly out of place. “Do you remember anything from the time you were missing?” he asked tersely and watched the children’s faces change from something like fear to cold hatred - much darker than any small child should be able to look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agent, please. Our children are distraught,” Mr. Hampton insisted and stepped between Nate and the children, blocking his view of them. Slowly, Nate’s eyes moved up to Mr. Hampton’s protective glare. “I don't appreciate you aggravating them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If everything is fine like you said, I don’t see why we can’t ask a few questions,” Nate snapped, and Matt felt like it was time to bail out, pull the parachute cord and pray they didn't splatter because things were going south very quickly. “Unless there’s something else you’d like to tell us,” Nate added and looked down to where the two children hugged their father, awkwardly, as if they weren’t sure quite how. They never stopped glaring up at Nate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before he could do any more damage, Matt snatched him backwards a step, excusing the both of them and showing themselves out. He gave Nate a shove down the front steps and towards the Prius parked on the street, and the moment he believed they were out of earshot of the house, Matt hissed, “Don't remember you electing to be ‘bad cop’ that time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate shrugged and rubbed the side of his face, grumpy and distant. “Those kids know something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or you just traumatized them even more,” Matt growled, and it took all his strength to keep his voice below a shout in the middle of his quaint little suburban neighborhood with its decorated lawns and shady porches, just another reminder that other people got to lead normal, safe lives and Matt was tracking down yet another monster preying on innocent children while his wife was thousands of miles away in a crummy apartment the size of a shoebox because the witch inside of Matt burned their house down. “And not to mention you've probably prevented us from ever talking to them again. So tell me how we're supposed to face Nancy Wells and tell her we have no way to find her brother for her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate didn’t bother to respond and only headed back to the car with a loud yawn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt inhaled slowly until he felt that place in his chest snap again. “You know, I get that you couldn’t care less these days what happens to you or anyone else, but at least don’t ruin my chance to help people, okay? At least I can keep what happened to me from happening to anybody else!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frowning, Nate kept his head ducked, because keeping his head down meant that he didn’t get it bitten off, and Matt was certainly in the mood for it. Before Matthew could say anything else about his brother’s sudden hatred for hunting - and life itself - his phone started to ring in his pocket, and squinting at the screen, Matt realized it was a number he didn’t recognize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment of sheer, white hot panic hit him like rushing water, a slap across the back that nearly bowled him over. He’d been so careful. He hadn’t spoken to his wife in months and only rarely called his friends. He’d given up everything to keep them just one step ahead. It couldn't be-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he answered, “Hello?” And the voice that came through was not a gruff, middle-aged man demanding his son back. It was the voice of a young girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mr. Towers?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as quickly as the panic had overtaken him, it vanished into an empty, exhausted relief. Matt’s eyes stung for a moment before he managed to speak again. “Nancy, it’s you. Yes, what can I do for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy stood alone in a quiet trailer home full to the bursting with fake flowers, in tea pots and old boots and empty pickle jars. Outside the window of the odd home, she watched a young boy who sat on the steps of another trailer across a dirt road riddled with potholes. His hands rested on his knees as he watched the dead grass at the edge of the small yard blow in the breeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Steven…” Nancy said slowly, as if she were picking each word carefully from a large pile and fitting them together at weird angles. “He came back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt looked up at Nate again. His brother was leaning against the side of Matt’s Prius, appearing like he might fall asleep at any moment, standing or otherwise, but his eyes were crinkled at the edges in an attempt to keep them focused on Matt who seemed to be going through some sort of emotional rollercoaster. Matt reached the driver’s side of the car and leaned one arm against the top of it to hold himself up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did? That's great!” Matt said around the lump in his throat. Nate turned to look at Matt as he spoke, and Matt shrugged in Nate’s direction. “Is he alright? Is he hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m…” Nancy felt slightly nauseous as she took slow, steady breaths of the trailer’s recycled air that smelled of dried flowers and dust. Outside, Branch laid beneath the steps of the trailer that Nancy was in, warily watching Steven from a distance. “Can I meet with you, please? There's - I just need to talk to someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course,” Matt answered and dropped into the driver’s seat while Nate struggled to get the door open on the other side. Matt reached across and manually unlocked the child lock on the door and shook his head as Nate got in. “Where are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He listened for a moment and nodded while Nate yawned and grabbed Matt’s coffee cup to see if there was anything left in it. Matt swatted at his hand. “Okay, tell me the address, and I'll head there now.” He listened some more as he fished his notebook out of his pocket and jotted down the address. While Matt's hands were otherwise occupied, Nate swiped the paper cup and downed the rest of the cold coffee with a look of disgust. Matt rolled his eyes. “Alright, I'll be there soon, Nancy. Hang tight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he hung up, Matt glanced towards Nate who was yawning again. “Nancy’s brother came back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The chick from Gallagher's?” Nate rubbed the top of his head where his hair had started to grow out in awkward lengths that curled around his ears and at the back of his neck, not that he seemed bothered by his appearance too much lately if the gray bags beneath his eyes and general sickly pallor to his skin were evidence of anything. “You think someone is taking the case for us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea. I kind of hope not,” Matt muttered and punched the address into the GPS on his dash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate stifled another yawn behind one hand, his eyes slipping closed as he asked, “You think there <em>is</em> a case?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I know how to find a case, Nate, thank you,” Matt grumbled, feeling that familiar annoyance spark again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raising eyebrows at his brother’s snappish attitude, Nate held up his hands in defeat before leaning his seat back and turning towards the window. “Just let me know when we get there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt felt a pang of guilt. He knew that he should be more understanding with his brother. Nate had been through a lot in the last few months, and he wasn’t new to acting out either. Usually when he acted out in the past, it meant he wanted his brother's attention but wasn't sure how to say it, but they spent all their time with each other recently. Nate had all of Matt's attention as far as he was concerned, and yet it still didn't seem to be enough for Nate. And it left Matt with no idea what to do. So, he sighed and decided not to take another dig at his brother, instead asking, “When was the last time you slept, really slept?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slept all night,” Nate muttered, his voice muffled by the car starting and pulling off the curb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt gave the back of his brother’s head a pointed look, and Nate shrugged like he could feel the glare burning against his skull. “I did!” He thought back to Vic and blushed a little despite himself. “It was... one of my more embarrassing performances.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, dude,” Matt groaned and waved a hand in front of his face as if to shoo away the unwanted mental images. “Too much information!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just can’t wake up!” Nate growled with genuine annoyance and rubbed at his eyes again, but it was no use.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt rolled his eyes a bit and turned the car around to head towards the corner of the street. “We’ll get some more coffee on the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they rounded the corner and began to leave the Hampton house behind, the two Hampton children came to stand in the window, watching them drive away with glassy, soulless eyes.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Man's Best Friend</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In which Branch is the goodest boy and deserves all the pets (but that's also just the whole episode in a nutshell, so).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Corpus Christi, Texas<br/>
October, 2011</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a little trailer park outside of Corpus Christi, Matt pulled the Prius up to lot 318 and parked. He got out, surveying up and down the short stretch of dirt road. The Saturday before Halloween was a quiet one in the neighborhood, and while a few of the trailers were decorated for the season, most seemed rather drab and uninteresting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All except for the neighboring trailer to Nancy’s, number 319. The add-on front porch was covered in various odd containers full of fake flowers, and among the faux fauna, was a porch swing, the white paint chipping and flaking away with age, where Nancy sat waiting. She jumped up when she recognized the Prius and met Matthew halfway between his car and the trailer as Nate managed to untangle his head from his tie. He was carrying his third cup of coffee for the day, a Vente this time with an extra shot of espresso, and finally a little life had returned to his tired, brown eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy, on the other hand, seemed more worried than ever, her hands twisting one of the braids that hung down past her shoulders. “Hi, again, Mr. Towers. Thanks for coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a problem, Nancy,” Matt said with a gentle smile and glanced towards the steps of the front porch where a young boy sat, his solemn little face matching the picture on the fliers Nancy had been handing out the day before. “Hi, Steven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The little boy didn’t reply. He stared up at Matthew with big, glassy eyes, similar to the Hampton children. Only he didn’t seem threatened as they had. Instead, Steven just seemed confused, removed from the moment. Underneath the boy, Branch poked his head out from his hiding place and trotted over to stand protectively beside Nancy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah! Dog!” Nate exclaimed excitedly and set his coffee cup on the hood of the car to kneel down in front of Branch and pet him. His chocolate and caramel fur was dusty and covered in cobwebs from hiding beneath the trailer, but Nate didn’t mind. Branch, while nervous, was friendly enough to oblige, tail wagging and nose curiously sniffing at this nice stranger. “You're just a handsome boy! Who's a handsome boy!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy glanced up at Matt who only rolled his eyes and shook his head. He couldn’t even pretend to account for his brother’s behavior, so Nancy just smiled and introduced the dog instead, “This is Branch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Branch!” Nate exclaimed excitedly and continued scratching behind the dog’s ears. Branch’s tail wagged all the more, and Nate was instantly besotted. He’d always wanted a dog growing up, but between Mary’s insistence on a spotless house and his dad pulling him away from home for days on end once Nate was old enough to hunt, he’d never had the chance to get a dog of his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Matt and Nancy awkwardly watched Nate get fur all over his blazer, a middle-aged woman in a brightly colored, flower print sundress stepped out of the trailer. She stared skeptically at Matt and then shifted her gaze down to Nate, and her expression became outright confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy turned to her with a grateful smile as the woman patted the top of Steven’s hair on her way down the stairs to meet the two young men. “This is our neighbor, Paris.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she approached, Matt offered a hand. “How are you? I’m Agent Towers, and this is my partner, Junior Agent Price.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate shot his brother a glare at the title but dutifully rose, brushed his hands off on his already-messy pants, and shook Paris’ hand as well. She smelled strongly of lavender perfume, her head full of brown braids piled up high on her head, and most of all, she seemed thoroughly unimpressed by the both of them and even more protective of the kids. But politely, she offered, “Maybe you boys better come in so we can chat.” Paris picked up a yellow watering can from the ground next to her mailbox where Matt had parked their car. “Steven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy’s head rose slowly, and when he saw that they were all looking at him, his grip on his knees tightened a moment. Then he stood and walked over obediently as Paris held out the watering can to him. “Be a dear and water the flowers for me, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steven stared down into the watering can like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with it, and while he stood there, Branch crossed behind him to return to Nancy’s side. As the dog brushed his bare leg, the little boy went stiff, his shoulders rising up near his ears. And Branch didn’t seem so comfortable around Steven either. In fact, as they all headed towards the trailer, Branch kept a careful distance with intermittent glances shot in the boy's direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steven paused on the front porch and looked around at the flowers. They were all fake. He looked back to Paris, and once again, she petted the top of his blond hair. “Don’t forget the marigolds, now.” And with that, she led the others inside, Branch returning to his hiding place beneath the steps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Left alone, Steven glanced towards the dark area under the trailer where he could see Branch’s shining eyes watching him, and then looking back at the fake flowers, Steven sighed and started watering them.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>There wasn’t a lot of elbow room inside the trailer between the four people now squeezed in among the fake flowers on every flat surface and even hanging from the ceiling in places. They worked their way into seats around a small kitchen table, the boys on one side and Nancy on the other. While Matt studied Nancy’s pinched expression, Nate watched Paris make tea, just to be sure she didn’t try to slip anything special into the blend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is something wrong, Nancy?” Matt asked after he watched her fidget nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy shrugged her narrow shoulders. Whatever she’d called them there for wasn’t easy for her to admit, and the more she shuffled in her seat, the more Matt began to worry. Finally, glancing out the window to where Steven was still busy watering the fake flowers, Nancy admitted, “That’s not my brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt and Nate frowned at each other before they turned their attention out the window as well. While Steven seemed odd for a little kid, he wasn’t nearly as unsettling as the Hampton children had been. But still, if Nancy was insisting that the boy they were looking at wasn’t her brother, there had to be a good reason for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Calmly, Matt asked her, “Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Nancy said a bit too emphatically for the enclosed space they were in. She shied back when she realized that she’d snapped at them and crossed her arms over her chest. “I - it's just been the two of us for a couple years now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than a ‘couple,’” Paris added under her breath as she waited for the tea to steep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy fidgeted with her braids again, twisting her finger in the hair tie at the end of one. “I kind of raised him, you know? Some kids might not like their older sister ‘smothering them,’ but we're best friends.” She took a deep breath and looked away from the window, down at her lap instead. “Like I said, we're all we have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paris passed them each a little china cup, each with a different flower painted on its perfect, off-white surface, and cleared her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plus a little help,” Nancy added with a lopsided smile, rubbing at her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate shook his head at Paris’ offering of tea and held up his Vente cup of coffee before he smiled at Nancy. “Like Branch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy sipped her tea with a nod. It was a dark pink color and smelled strongly of flowers and citrus, a little like the kind Steph preferred, and Matt took his cup gratefully if only to have the familiar scent close to him. Nate eyed his brother but let it slide as Nancy continued, “Branch watches over Steven while I'm at work. And both of us when we're together, which is pretty much always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate’s smile turned rueful, almost nostalgic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once she’d poured and served the tea, Paris scooted up to the table alongside Nancy, and the girl had to scoot so far to the side that she was pressed against the window. But Nancy seemed used to it, grinning as Paris dropped an extra cube of sugar into the girl’s tea. Paris seemed to take up space in more ways than one, and when she turned her gaze on the boys again, Nate got the distinct feeling that she was not to be trifled with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I've known these kids for years, probably since Nancy was Steven's age,” Paris explained to them in a melodic tone, like a lullaby. “That boy may be quiet, but he's quick, clever. Got a mouth on him too when he gets going. But he loves his sister. He'd die for her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt brushed a thumb over the rim of the tiny china cup in his hands. “And you don’t think this is that Steven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy shook her head again, and her braids bounced around her shoulders. “He's barely looked at me since he got back. He's just... cold.” She hugged herself, her elbow bumping Paris’ arm, and the older woman put her arm around Nancy to pull her close. “It's almost like I - I'm a stranger to him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt watched Nate twist the friendship bracelet around his wrist beneath the table. A bunch of child-snatching, body-swapping monsters show up in town, and all Matt could think was that he’d felt like his own brother had been a stranger ever since he got him back from John. Sure, they'd tried their best, had even made it through another encounter with Afton, but in the weeks that followed, watching his little brother spiral so far he started to act like someone else... Matt didn’t want to believe that maybe Nate was somehow better off with his dad. That couldn’t be true, and yet, Matt couldn’t help but feel like he hadn’t exactly done his brother any favors by “saving” him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate kept twisting at his bracelet as they left the trailer. On the front porch, Steven was still busy watering each and every pot of fake flowers and greenery. Seeing him, Matt made a move to go over and speak with him, but he felt a tug at his elbow and turned to look at Nate. It only took a few weighted looks back and forth before Matt sighed and relented.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t exactly been trustworthy around kids recently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Nate stepped closer to Steven, realizing that the watering can was now empty but that Steven was making motions as if to water the plants anyway. Flicking his gaze in Nate’s direction, Steven nodded at the can in his hands. “Yeah. I know,” he spoke in a soft, somewhat monotone voice. “But they’re not real anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate nodded, continuing to watch the kid until finally Steven sighed and set the watering can down at his feet. He turned his solemn eyes on Nate again, and this time, Nate searched them and thought that somewhere beneath the glassy green exterior, the kid was actually terrified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steven balled his shirt up in his hands. “You here to take me away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brow wrinkling up in confusion, Nate shook his head slowly and knelt down next to him, an arm propped on one knee. “No one is going to take you anywhere, kiddo.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Matt then back to Steven. “We just want to talk, that’s all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nodding, Steven walked past Nate, down the steps, and across the dirt road to his own trailer. After a moment, Nate got up to follow him. Steven kept his head down as he walked and kicked pebbles with his beaten black converse. “It's okay. I know I snuck out and went to the haunted house, and I know I went missing for a few days, and I know Nancy's my sister and Branch is my dog and this is where I live.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate let his head fall to the side as he looked from the kid to the trailer. It was a small place but seemed homey enough, and Paris and Nancy both seemed to really care for the kid. And he had a dog, and that was easily like saying this kid had a chest of full of gold. “...but?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steven shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t remember any of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, Nate looked back to Matt. He’d hung back at the top of the stairs on Paris’ front porch, and at Steven’s revelation, he seemed silently confused. Beneath Matt’s feet, still hiding under the steps, Branch seemed to sense the tension in the air and growled softly, deep in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even the dog doesn’t like me.” Steven turned back to Nate again but didn’t look up at him. Instead, he kept his eyes down, his cheeks burning bright red as he whispered, “He knows I don’t belong here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a hint of familiarity at the words, Nate decided to focus on one thing at a time. “What do you mean you don’t remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly Steven kicked his way over to the steps of the trailer where some tall monkey grass grew up through the wooden railing and tickled his arm when he sat down. He gathered his knees to his chest. “You know how you have a favorite color? And you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>what it is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans and nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But,” Steven continued, his face wrinkling up a little as he thought very carefully about what he was saying, “if someone asked why it's your favorite, you don't really know? It just is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Nate sat down next to him, giving another nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's... kind of what this is like. I know all of these things, but I don't really know why.” He looked across to Paris’ trailer where Matt stood, and Matthew made a point of not looking at them, as if he were trying not to pry. Steven’s mouth turned down at the edges, brow still furrowed in thought. “It's like I don't remember them, like they're just from movies I’ve seen before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate plucked a piece of grass that poked him and rolled the green blade back and forth between his fingers. “Do you think something happened to you while you were gone?” He positioned the grass between his thumbs, leaving a slight gap between them, and blew through the gap, making a little squeaking sound as the grass vibrated like the reed of an instrument - a trick Matt had taught him when they were kids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steven smiled, gave a breathy laugh, then answered again slowly, as if he still had to ponder every word, “I don't remember anything. When I showed back up this morning, it feels like a light was switched.” His smile fell, and he started to rock back and forth. “Like I woke up from a dream or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, he raised his hands to his arms and started to scratch at the skin of his exposed forearms, the sleeves of the oversized hoodie he wore pushed up to his elbows, but as he did, the skin of his arms didn’t become irritated, just remained the same pale white color even as Steven’s nails started to dig in further and further. Nate watched the movement closely and frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Steven whispered, his voice breaking, “I don’t remember how I got back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate felt something twinge in his chest, but he managed an understanding nod before he glanced up at his brother. Matt, whether consciously or not, rubbed at the sigil on his collarbone as he stared off into the distance in thought, and Nate felt the pain in his chest dig in deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew a thing or two about people forgetting important things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few moments later, Nate’s thoughts were interrupted when Paris and Nancy stepped out of the other trailer. When Steven spotted his sister, he immediately stopped scratching at his arms and offered her the smallest of smiles. Nancy approached quickly, and Nate got up to give them some space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Paris took the watering can back into the trailer to refill it, Matt stepped down and watched Nancy sit next to Steven. They talked quietly to one another for a few moments before Nancy reached up and tousled Steven’s hair. It made the little boy smile more brightly, with more genuine emotion than Matt had seen from him yet, and it warmed his heart a little, even if there still seemed to be something off about the kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as Steven moved to hug Nancy, his arms wrapping around her middle and his head ducking against her shoulder, Branch rose from his hiding place, growling and barking. Nate noticed just in time to spring forward and grab the dog by the back of his collar as he charged at the kids. Branch’s teeth were bared, white and snapping, eyes locked on Steven. Nancy gasped in shock and moved herself in front of Steven to shield him, the boy’s expression wide and slack with fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Branch! Stop it! Stop! That's enough!” Nancy shouted, but the dog wouldn’t listen to her. He just kept fighting against Nate’s hold on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Nate wrapped an arm around Branch’s middle, not caring if the dog bit him. He couldn’t let him get to the kids. “Whoa, easy boy. Easy.” Finally he got an arm tight around the dog’s ribs, and Branch stopped fighting him. “What's wrong, bud, didn't get enough Bacon Bits in your Wheaties this morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt inched closer, eyes blown wide. Nate had all but folded himself over this dog to keep it pinned to the ground, and Matt didn’t like how close Branch’s teeth were to Nate’s throat. But the dog didn’t seem to be interested in hurting Nate, its eyes locked onto Steven and Nancy instead. “Is he always like this?” Matt asked, slightly breathless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy stood slowly, her legs shaking beneath her. “No, he's our third wheel. Well, he was, until…” Her voice trailed off then as she looked back to Steven. The little boy seemed almost ashamed of himself, crossing his arms over his knees and hiding his face. Curled in on himself like that, he seemed so small it made Matt's heart ache.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate shifted his hold on Branch to pet the dog behind the ears, hoping to calm him. “Well, one of these things doesn't belong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but which one?” Matt asked, and the brothers glanced back and forth between Branch and Steven, trying to do the math.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Nancy just knelt beside Steven again. He was still balled up tight and shivering slightly until she wrapped her arms tight around him. Then he melted against her ever so slightly, his worried eyes rising to meet the brothers' as Matt and Nate were forced to make their decision.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Cinemafiles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's aliens, guys. You can stop your theorizing now, because it's definitely aliens.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hold Em Motel</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Corpus Christi, TX</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>October 2011</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt drove the Prius into the parking lot of the Hold Em Motel and watched the door to the front office in the rearview mirror. "Clear, but you better be fast," Matt hissed as his brother got out and went around to the back door on the driver’s side. Hopefully they would be hidden from view of the office, but with their luck lately, Matt didn't want to take any chances. Opening the door, Nate reached in and took hold of Branch’s leash.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nate, would you hurry up? If they see we've got this dog, we're screwed,” Matt muttered and got out himself when Nate took too long. Branch had wedged himself beneath the backseat and seemed to be refusing to come out even as Nate did his best to gently draw him towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly Nate reached out and clipped the leash to Branch’s collar and stood. “Dude, this poor guy is scared out of his mind. Have a little patience.” He knelt down again and slowly coaxed the young dog out from under the seat, keeping him close as they slipped to the motel room door where he tossed his key to Matt who unlocked it quickly and let them in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment that they were out of sight, Nate let the leash go slack, and Branch took the opportunity to find a place to lay down where he could watch the rest of the room. Nate grabbed a styrofoam bowl from the countertop and went to the bathroom to fill it with water, calling as he went, “You hungry, boy? Thirsty at least?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt tiptoed around Branch in an attempt not to further spook the poor dog. The scruffy little guy did seem petrified, and while Matt was never much of a dog person, he did feel bad. As far as they knew, Branch was only trying to protect Nancy from what he saw as a threat, even if his efforts were a little misguided. When Nate returned with the bowl full of water, Matt watched his brother kneel down beside the shaking dog. He couldn’t think of a time he’d seen Nate so gentle and cautious, especially not in recent months.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got you some water, bud. You want some? It's okay, it's all yours.” Nate reached to push the bowl closer, but Branch flinched back at the motion, giving one pained yelp like he'd been hit. So Nate held up his hands for the dog to see and backed up a few inches instead. "It's alright, Branch. I don't want to hurt you." Slowly, carefully, Branch sat up a little straighter and eased towards the water bowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keeping his eyes on Nate, Branch took a few drinks from the bowl, and since the dog had relaxed a little, Nate sat back against one wall. Spooked momentarily by the movement, Branch stopped again just to make sure that nothing was amiss before he slowly went back to drinking again. Nate’s eyes softened, and he sat watching the dog with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Matt cleared his throat a little and asked, “So, what do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m in love,” Nate answered without looking up at his brother, and Matt rolled his eyes with a good-humored huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean about the case, punk.” But it was nice, in a way, to see that genuine smile on Nate’s face again. Matt had to admit that at least, even if he did want to get on with their investigation. They still had a monster to kill and people to save, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate sighed and stretched his legs out a little at a time so he wouldn't scare Branch again. “Well, is it Steven or isn't it? Or is it just someone messing with his head? Little trauma induced mind mushing?” Nate was quiet for a few moments as he pulled at a loose button on his blazer. “It's more likely than you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once again, Matt reminded himself that he should be more patient with his little brother. Once again, he felt that thing inside his chest, the jagged wound, yawn open wider, and he felt his hands curl into tight fists, anger burning in the back of his throat. That conflict, among other things, made Matt feel less like himself every day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he took a deep breath to calm down. “Do you think that’s what it is?” he asked quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate didn’t look up, his eyes closing as if he were drifting off to sleep again, but he did shift a little to let his back rest fully against the wall. “I think the brain does all kinds of crazy things to protect itself, especially when you're a kid. If someone did hurt that poor little guy…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But disassociating from his own life? That badly?” Matt sighed and rubbed his hands together. He supposed it wasn’t entirely impossible. He just wished they had something a little more concrete to go on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Twisting the bracelet on his wrist, Nate shrugged to himself as Branch finished drinking and curled up in the corner of the room. “Mine conjured up dead kids. I'd say a little disassociation isn't exactly a stretch of the imagination.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That made Matt’s train of thought grind to a stop. Did Nate really think that his childhood trauma had caused the hallucinations he’d been plagued by all those years? As far as Matt knew, the jury was still out on what actually caused them, but they always thought it had something to do with Afton’s powers, not that they were mere figments of Nate’s trauma. Since when had Nate started believing something different?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Nate didn’t seem to notice his brother’s surprise, though he continued to twist at his bracelet as he spoke. “Okay, so maybe it’s a lot of disassociation. But, he did go missing in the same haunted house you saw ‘Freaky Friday’ that kid back in Ohio, Nancy did see him get grabbed, and he's not the only one. All the missing kids have been returned home at the same time where their happy parents are none the wiser.” He shuddered a little bit, thinking back to those other kids they’d met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unsure if he could backtrack to the detail about Nate’s hallucinations, Matt shook his head. “It's a little too weird to ignore, that's for sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few minutes of silence passed then. Nate remained in his position on the floor, staring at Branch in thought while the dog watched them both and huffed periodically. Matt massaged the back of his neck and tried to make sense of what details they’d gathered so far. Kids - why was it always bad things happening to kids?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Nate sat up a little straighter and peered up at Matt. “I don’t think they’re even human.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt raised his head from where he’d let it hang forward, his elbows propped on his knees. “The kids? Steven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate crawled over to his bed, tugged his duffel out from under it - since when had he started hiding his things? - and drew out a composition notebook. It wasn’t the same one that Matt had seen earlier. That one had been plain black and white, but this one was red and decidedly more full of notes and makeshift bookmarks. Nate propped the notebook on his lap and started flipping through pages of his notes, going through their options.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Past experiences is one thing. My instincts are another. And all of these kids reek of body-snatchers, or dopplegangers, or -” He paused on one page and made a disgusted face. “I bet they're skinwalkers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sounded like tons of fun. Matt stood up and came closer. “Skinwalkers?” Branch flinched back when Matt moved, but he did what he’d seen Nate do, raising his hands and slowly settling onto the floor beside Nate. When Matt crossed his legs, his knee bumped against Nate’s, and his brother moved aside to give Matt space and passed the notebook over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt took it and grimaced at the hand-drawn illustration on the page. The word “skinwalker” was scribbled in thick, block letters at the top of the left hand page, and underneath it was a drawing of bones and sinew protruding from a puddle of skin, fat, and hair, like a humanoid creature was attempting to rise from the muck. It was… detailed and <em>sickening</em> to say the very least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate glanced at the picture, a little proud of it - as disgusting as it looked. Notebooks and notebooks of his personal art John had insisted he throw out, but at least he’d gotten to keep anything that was “useful” for hunting. It made Nate feel like he’d lost months of his own memories. Those drawings were how he kept track of… everything. Hunts, hunters, nightmares, whatever he needed to empty out of his head - it went down onto the page. And then into the trash...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, he shook his thoughts from his head and explained to Matt. “They’re ugly things that shed their skin and turn into pretty much anyone they want to. Silver kills them, usually a good old bullet to the heart does the trick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that like a shapeshifter?” Matt asked, thumbing through more of the pages. Almost all of them were detailed with drawings of the monsters that they contained notes on. He’d known that Nate liked to draw when they were kids, but this was different. Back then, the kid had liked Pokemon and Dragon Ball Z characters. This was, in a word, dark. But showed a lot of talent, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate blinked at Matt's comment, arguing, “No, a shapeshifter is completely different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?” Matt asked and looked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate floundered for a moment, gesturing vaguely around with his hands. “It just… They </span>
  <em>
    <span>shapeshift</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Skinwalkers don't! They… stay human, they just look different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t really make sense to Matt, but he handed the notebook back anyway. Nate folded it closed, the spine cracking a little as he did, and he tucked it back into his duffel bag which he stuffed under the bed again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. His hands moved wildly as he spoke like he could somehow conjure common sense from thin air. “So, a bunch of skinwalkers are hiding out in Gallagher's, and then... kidnapping and replacing a bunch of kids?” He made a face, hands pausing as he did. “Why? How are there so many? And what happens to the real kids?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate shrugged. He didn’t have any answers to offer either. “I don't know. You asked what I thought, and I said it.” It wasn’t the typical skinwalker MO, he’d admit to that, but they didn’t have much else to go on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressing the heels of his hands against his closed eyes, Matt took a deep breath until his lungs expanded to bump against the icy cold lump in his stomach that kept spiking and rolling around uncomfortably - frozen and empty. “And there's nothing else that would be replacing kids? Or could be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Nate was silent for a while, Matt dropped his hands into his lap and looked up. They sat a few inches from one another but at eye level, and Matt could see that Nate was deep in thought. He seemed oddly focused, especially after the events of that morning. Something about seeing Steven and Nancy must’ve changed his attitude, at least for the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Nate eventually sighed and tossed his hands up. “I got nothing. Skinwalkers and shapeshifters are the only things I know that could do something like that... unless…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt lifted an eyebrow. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A grin split Nate’s face. “Maybe it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Or that cockroach alien guy from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Men in Black</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Uh, Edgar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a light scoff, Matt leaned back against the bed and rolled his eyes. “Dude, how many alien movies are you going to reference?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Every ten-year-old needs a weird obsession,” Nate muttered, his expression a sarcastic pout, eyebrows raised and eyes haughty, playful again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt smirked. “Your obsession was anime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyday </span>
  </em>
  <span>obsession was anime,” Nate corrected him, holding up a finger as Matt liked to do when he “Um, actually”-ed people. “When I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ten</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it was aliens.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help but laugh, snorting a little as he swatted at the finger Nate held dangerously close to Matt’s nose. “When I was ten, my ‘weird obsession’ was zoology. Not fictional chest-bursters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate deflected the swipe and flicked Matt’s nose instead. “Well, maybe that explains why you had nightmares about the neighbors breaking into our house all the time. You weren’t desensitized!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, lions don't break into houses, Nate! Aliens do!” He dove under Nate’s next attack and took a jab at Nate’s underarms. The kid was still ridiculously ticklish, even after all these years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bouncing back out of the way, Nate shook his head and wiggled his eyebrows as he peered up at his brother from his slightly doubled-over position. “Aliens don't need to break into your house, Matt,” his voice became low and spooky as he whispered, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>they're already inside</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt rolled his eyes again and raked some of Nate’s hair into his eyes. It still didn’t reach nearly as far as it used to. “I hate you,” he grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d meant it to be playful, but it hit a sensitive spot in Nate’s chest. And suddenly his little brother’s smile wavered. He attempted to brush it off, ducking his head. “I know you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt leaned back. His gaze dropped away from Nate at the feeling of that place in his chest squirming again, the fear that maybe there had been some truth to his words that he didn’t want to be there. He couldn’t really hate his own brother, could he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate sighed and got up from the floor, shedding his blazer and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. His hands had started to shake since their little shoving match, and the more he tried to get it to go away, the tremor grew stronger. Walking to the window, he shook his hands out and peered through the curtains. “Is it hot in here to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt pushed himself up from the floor and gave Branch a wide berth as he walked over to the other corner of the room to get a paper cup to fill with water. “Must be you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, Matty, you’re so sweet,” Nate joked off-handedly and kept fidgeting with his collar like he couldn’t breathe right. He paced the room for a moment as Matt went to the sink in the bathroom and filled the paper cup. Finally Nate dropped into the only chair in the room and bobbed his knee, overflowing with the nervous energy and glancing out the curtains again with an agitated sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt returned and handed him the cup of water, watching him closely. He wasn’t an expert, but a few quick online searches a couple months back had told him what symptoms of withdrawal commonly looked like. And he wasn’t liking what he was seeing, even if it was becoming a new normal. Nate took it with a grateful nod and kept prattling on. “You know, 9 out of 10 alien movies end the same way.” He sipped some of the water, and then, thinking a moment, downed the rest of the cup in a few gulps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, not happily,” Matt muttered and took the cup back to get Nate some more water, more concern edging into his tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With destroying the nest. Or mothership, or Mother.” Nate blinked up as Matt paused in the door to the bathroom and turned around to look at him, eyebrows raised. “We have to go check out Gallagher's, don't we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, rolling the cup through his fingers and frowning deeply. Nate glanced back towards the corner where Branch was still watching them both, his ears back and alert. “We can’t just leave him here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's why I didn't want to take him in the first place.” Matt pushed off the doorframe and refilled the cup. Massaging his right temple, he handed it over to Nate again. “What, exactly, do you suggest we do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both stared at the poor dog as Branch tucked his head even lower as if he were ashamed of himself, and Nate fidgeted with his hair in thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had always wanted a dog…</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Old Gallagher’s was practically bustling as evening turned to twilight overhead. The sky was not yet totally dark as the line to get in for some thrills and scares stretched down the weed-eaten sidewalk back to the road where Matt and Nate parked in their separate cars and got out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is lame,” Nate remarked, staring up at the house. “It’s not even dark yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Checking his eyes in the reflection of his car window, Matt adjusted his tie with an obvious frown. “Good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate opened the back door to the Firebird and crouched down to pet Branch where he’d hidden himself on the floorboard. “You going to be okay, bud? I'll leave the windows cracked for you, and you've got some water, okay?” He scratched the dog behind the ears and felt a calm settle over both himself and the canine. “Don't let anyone scare you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want to leave Branch in the car, but it was safer that way. The air was cool enough that overheating wouldn’t be a problem at least. Nate just didn’t want to leave the little guy alone. When he stood and shut the door, he turned to catch the amused look that Matt was throwing his way. Nate sighed. “Shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They brushed shoulders as Nate stalked past, and Matt turned after him with a smirk as they made their way around to the back door of the haunted house. It was unguarded and unlocked when Matt carefully tried the handle. A few big, green trash bins full of overstuffed black bags lined the back wall along with mounds of wet leaves raked up into piles. While the front of the house seemed shabby in a spooky way, this side just seemed shabby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate pulled the EMF reader out of his pocket and turned it on. The device screeched to life, wailing and blinking its lights, and Matt had to reach over and muffle the thing before it gave them away. “Dude - what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly Nate glanced from the device to the house and then to the street where more and more people were gathering for a night of frights, and bashfully, he blinked at Matt. He shut the reader off and tucked it away again. “Sorry. Won't work for skinwalkers anyway.” What was he doing? Nate bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and shook his head at himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt's face contorted in annoyance as he shook his head, too. “Good to know you’re all here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On impulse, Nate glared at his brother, but he knew it was true. He hadn’t exactly been on his game in a while, and if he didn’t watch out, it was going to cost them. So, rather than insisting on taking point as he normally would, Nate watched as Matt leaned into the door, pushed it open, and led the way inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys entered what appeared to be the “backstage” area of the haunted house, a hallway cut off from the rest of the house by blocking off certain doorways. A few half-costumed actors brushed past the brothers, shooting them questioning glances as they passed, but the boys ducked their heads and kept moving. Stage equipment, lights, and props, things that they both recognized, were stacked in various piles. A whole room they passed was a dedicated control center with security footage of the different rooms that made Nate’s heart hammer a little harder in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matthew stopped as he peered down at a box of fresh stage lights, his eyes a little wide, and Nate paused, wondering if it was all becoming uncomfortably familiar like it was to Nate. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Matt shrugged it off, and a nervous smile played across his lips. “They're just... stuff. It's theater stuff. How do they make something so terrifying out of lights and cheap fog machines?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind them, a voice echoed down the hallway, “Call it the ‘family business.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brothers whirled around to see Cliff, the owner of the haunted house, staring them down. His brows were knit together, his mouth pulled into a sharp line as he approached. “And we're very busy at the moment and don't need to be tripping over any more busy-bodies, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Detective</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” His harsh eyes settled on Matthew who straightened his spine a little under the scrutiny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate glanced at his brother in confusion. When had Matt had time to meet this guy? But Matt managed a wry smile, tucking his hands into the pockets of his blazer. “Mr. Clifton, good to see you again, as always. This is my partner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fumbling a bit, Nate dug out his fake badge and flashed it to the older man. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Agent</span>
  </em>
  <span> Price,” Nate snapped before Matt could say anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cliff looked between the two of them, a hint of mirth in his eyes at the apparent tension between the two “partners.” He sighed and planted a fist against one hip. “Well, now what do you need? Like I said, we open shop in less than,” he checked his watch, “twenty minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’d hate to delay your busy season while there are children missing,” Nate said, false sympathy and sarcasm dripping from his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I've said before,” narrowing his eyes at Matthew again, “a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hundred </span>
  </em>
  <span>times, we have nothing to do with it!” Cliff tossed his hands into the air then. “And last I heard, they were all returned to their families, safe and sound.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt’s smile came dangerously close to a snarl as he asked, “Then you won't mind letting me take a look at those security cameras?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having seen the security room briefly on their way in, Nate checked the corners of the room for cameras and finally spotted them among the plastic draping that covered the windows and blacked out most of the light. They were well hidden, but if they were even present there in the backstage area, it meant they likely filled the rest of the house as well. If the kid had gone missing, maybe they could find some video evidence as they had in the past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Depends,” Cliff snapped, “do you have a warrant this time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt leveled the same dangerous look at Cliff that he’d used before. “Considering you just listed a detail of our investigation that only ourselves and the police know, I don't think I need one, Mr. Clifton.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cliff frowned, obviously annoyed and confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Nate just shrugged his shoulders and took a step closer, edging in on the man’s personal space in an attempt to intimidate him. “Story hasn't even broken about the kids coming home yet.” He narrowed his eyes and studied Cliff’s face. “‘Safe and sound’ as you put it, am I right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt stepped up, his head cocked to the side. “Odd detail to know for someone who has ‘nothing to do with it.’” He met Cliff’s death glare with another confident smile and gestured towards the security room down the hall. “So I'll be looking at that video footage now. And I'd like you to let my partner look around for himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cliff’s jaw dropped, eyes wide with fury. “What?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Double the teamwork, half the paperwork. You know how it is,” Nate said with a shrug and grinned when Cliff shot him a killer look next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man huffed and flashed his watch at them. “Twenty minutes and not a second more!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate gave a mocking salute as Cliff turned in the direction of the security room and led Matt along with him. When their backs were turned, Nate started down the other end of the hallway and disappeared into the haunted house itself to search around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside the security room, Matt glanced over the monitors placed on a small table and up on stacks of crates. Exposed wires slithered across the floor in tangled masses where they disappeared into the walls in places where the drywall had been cut away. It looked more like a hack job than a security system. Even the Freddy's security office wasn't this much of a mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very professional set-up,” he muttered sarcastically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cliff rolled his eyes as he stood in the doorway seeming more and more impatient the longer that he was forced to watch Matthew. “Gallagher's has been traveling and setting up shop in a new location every year for generations now. When I took over it was up to me to jumpstart the - </span>
  <em>
    <span>modern evolution of horror</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if you will.” Again he checked his watch with a sigh. “Can I go now? I have a haunted house to run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matthew waved the man off, annoyed by his refusal to be anything close to helpful. He wouldn’t go all the way to accuse him to his face, but Cliff was certainly suspect number one as far as Matt was concerned. He scanned the monitors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It always came down to security cameras and monitors and watching the monsters through a screen, didn’t it? A game of trying to catch a glimpse of a snatch of pixels that didn’t belong. It felt like a sick thing to obsess over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On one of the feeds, Matt caught sight of Nate and sighed - family business, indeed. It was a pity, though, that he didn't happen to catch sight of the figure following Nate before he switched the feeds, took the controls, and started going over the footage from the time of Steven’s disappearance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Talk about a needle in a haystack.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Give Me a Kiss for Good Luck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Y'all were ready for more haunted house fun, right?</p><p>Possible trigger for forced, nonconsensual kiss.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Corpus Christi, Texas<br/>October, 2011</p><p>Nate wandered somewhat aimlessly through the old, dusty house until he reached the front door, covered in chipped paint. Even though the windows on either side of the doorway were blacked out with tarps, Nate could hear the bustling crowd beyond it waiting, clammering to get in. He shook his head.</p><p>Bunch of freaks.</p><p>Two hallways led in either direction from the front door as well as a separate path upstairs, so he had some options. He did eeny-meeny-miny-moe in his mind before heading up the stairs to the second floor, decorated to look like a hospital from Hell. It came complete with several instruments of torture, tons of blood, and dismembered “patient” dummies. With the Smith family hatred for hospitals came a very healthy fear of losing arms and legs in their line of work, which meant that everything Nate looked at made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up whether it was a nurse with a machete or a few spare fingers lying around.</p><p>Nate went a little green. “Oh, great.”</p><p>A few actors were still rushing to their places, glancing at Nate out of the corners of their eyes as if they weren’t sure whether they should be attempting to scare him or not. When any of them tried to approach, Nate just held up a hand and kept moving. With the mood he was in, anything or anyone that jumped at him now was likely to end up full of bullet holes without any questions asked.</p><p>He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for, after all. Some place you might stuff a small child if you had kidnapped them, maybe a special back room where they experimented on the kids’ brains and took their memories, or some kind of weapon.</p><p>But the place was chock full of all of that stuff.</p><p>Because it was a haunted house for Pete's sake.</p><p>Nate shook his head. He was not having a good day. Week, month, year... life.</p><p>He sighed and continued on - no time for that now - weaving through the carnage. Bloody examination tables filled one room while an automated iron wheelchair rolled back and forth as if inhabited by a ghostly patient while more dummies lay about on every surface, some of them in pieces and all looking uncomfortably realistic. Nate tiptoed over to one dummy leaned against the wall wearing a surgeon’s gown and poked it in the arm.</p><p>“What's up, Doctor Fake -”</p><p>The “dummy” lunged for him suddenly, and screeching at the top of his lungs, Nate stumbled back a few steps and crashed into one of the many examination tables. The actor pulled off their mask and stared at Nate, a little confused and offended, but Nate gave a well-meaning, if slightly breathless, smile.</p><p>“Nice fake blood! Looks real!”</p><p>He officially hated this place.</p><p>As that thought crossed his mind, the lights in the room dimmed for a moment and then returned to normal. All the actors scrambled to get to their places, some of them disappearing into metal cabinets or behind curtains, lying in wait, and Nate moved along to the next room. As he shut the door, a young woman appeared behind him, a wicked smile on her face.</p><p>Nate turned towards her, sensing another person in the room, and Vic jumped at him. “Boo!”</p><p>Nate screamed again. His already hammering heart jumped up into his throat as he reached for his iron hunting knife before realizing who it was that had scared him. "What the - uh, Vic?" He glanced around like someone else might be there, like it was some elaborate joke. "What - what are you doing here?”</p><p>Clutching her sides, Vic finally stopped laughing at him long enough to smirk and lean one hand on the wall behind him while the other flicked at a stray strand of his hair. “I’m looking for you.” Then she closed the distance between them in a blink, and Nate’s eyes bulged in surprise as Vic kissed him, her hands gripping the edges of his blazer tight to pull their bodies together.</p><p>Just let Matt find him like this, Nate thought and pushed her back a step as he tried to catch his breath. “Whoa - N-no.” But she leaned forward again quickly, her eyes focused on his mouth like she couldn’t hear him. “No, st-!” Vic rolled her eyes and pulled him in for another kiss, cutting off his protests.</p><p>Panic sparking bright and loud in the back of his brain, Nate continued to try to fight her, but Vic was stronger than he expected and determined, too. She pushed him around like he was nothing. His back hit something large, a set piece maybe, and then the wall. Vic’s fingers carded through the back of his hair, and Nate’s thoughts started to slip and slur together. His frantic, panicked movements trying to push Vic away from him became sluggish and sloppy. She kept leading him, heated kisses stealing his breath away, into one of the set pieces, a large metal cage in the asylum room.</p><p>In one last desperate attempt to fend her off, Nate reached out again to push her back, but she took his wrists and pinned them to the bars of the cage behind him. Peeking up at him through her lashes, Vic noticed Nate’s eyes roll back in his head, and he collapsed against her. With a satisfied sigh, she dropped his wrists and grabbed his jaw instead to hold him upright against the wall.</p><p>Vic wiped her mouth on the back of her other hand. It came away coated in a milky substance, and, with a smirk, she licked it clean. “It always tastes better the day after,” Vic hummed to herself, a little amused by Nate’s valiant efforts to fight back as she studied his face. It was kind of cute, like a growling puppy.</p><p>Drawing back her hand then, she let him crumble to the ground at her feet, his head striking the bottom of the cage hard as he listed to the side. From another door in the room, Cliff entered and glanced around for the source of the noise.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>Vic hissed to herself when she spotted him and ducked down into the cage where a dummy wrapped in a straitjacket hid her from view. Cliff looked around quickly before leaving the same way that he’d come, but as Vic looked back and forth between Nate and the dummy she’d hidden behind, an idea formed in her mind.</p><p> </p><p>Matt’s leg bobbed beneath the table as he searched through the security footage. Unfortunately, nothing major stood out to him over the past couple of days. Of course, if anyone working in the house was kidnapping the kids, they’d know how to hide from the cameras, but what troubled Matt even more was the fact that, when he did find footage of Steven entering the house, Nancy wasn’t with him.</p><p>He could’ve sworn that Nancy said she’d seen Steven get taken, but as far as he could tell, she hadn’t been there with Steven that night at all. Frowning, he switched the footage back to the current view of the area outside the doors. People were beginning to file in, pushing and joking and laughing, and among their faces, for just a brief moment, Matt thought he spotted John Smith’s scowling face.</p><p>Feeling drained from his head, heart hammering in his chest, body going numb, Matt made a choking noise as he shoved the chair back.</p><p>But as quickly as he had spotted the face among the crowd, it disappeared. Matt checked the other outdoor cameras, every face he could see, but John was gone. Maybe he’d never been there at all. Maybe it was just another cruel trick his mind was playing on him. Matt rested a hand against his stomach, suddenly feeling very sick, even if he was relieved to have been wrong.</p><p>Then he checked the cameras for Nate and - spotting him a few rooms away - Matt sighed and stood up to gather his things. After he’d shoved all of his things back into his bag, Matt took a quick pass through the nearby rooms as patrons started flooding the halls and the actors began their reign of terror, but through all the nonsense and chaos, Matt couldn’t find his brother anywhere. The sensation of dread was all too familiar as he ducked through room after room until he decided that going against the flow of the entering guests to the haunted house was not the best plan.</p><p>Instead, he found the front door and fled outside into the open air where he took his first full breath of air in at least five minutes. He'd seen John's face in that crowd. And now Nate was gone. Matt rushed to his car and swept a hand over his sweaty forehead. Again he checked his eyes in the reflection of the car window - clear but frightened - before digging in his pocket for his phone to call Nate.</p><p>But as he struggled to free it from his pocket, someone grabbed his shoulder from behind and whirled him around. Suddenly Nate’s face was inches from his own as his younger brother shouted, “Boo!”</p><p>“Gah! Nate!” Matt hissed and punched Nate’s shoulder as he snickered at Matt’s reaction. As if Matt hadn’t had a big enough scare inside. He put a hand to his chest, willing his heart to slow down and glared up at Nate again. “I thought you were - !" he started and then let it go. He hadn't seen John. It was a mistake, no need to bring it up. Instead, Matt crossed his arms and asked, "Well, did you find anything?”</p><p>Nate sighed as he rocked back and forth on his feet. “It’s kinda hard to do with guests milling about everywhere, so no, unfortunately not.” He tucked his hands behind his back and frowned, shrugging his shoulders.</p><p>Irritation rising in place of his fear, Matt felt like going on another tirade if he weren’t so beat. “Dude, you were in there for like thirty-five minutes! You didn’t find anything?”</p><p>“I only had twenty before everyone started coming in!” Nate said defensively and backed up a step.</p><p>Matt sighed, pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes again. “Whatever. Security cameras didn't have anything good either. Not that I was expecting much.”</p><p>Colors danced through the darkness in Matt’s head, and behind him, he could hear people scream inside the haunted house while others waited eagerly for their chance. He couldn’t believe people paid money to live his life for a few minutes, and there he was trapped in it. He'd gladly give the whole thing up for a measly seventeen bucks if someone else wanted it.</p><p>When Matt opened his eyes again, Nate was watching him with obvious concern, and Matt felt bad for getting on his case again. He hadn’t exactly found anything himself, and Matt could think of one thing that might cheer them both up a little.</p><p>“You hungry?”</p><p>Nate grinned and pulled the Firebird keys from his pocket. “Starving.”</p><p>In the passenger seat of the car, Branch shot to his feet, barking loudly as Nate approached. Matt frowned in confusion. The sheepish dog had seemed to like Nate so much before. And Nate, in turn, scowled right back at the canine. “Hey - keep quiet!" Nate smacked one hand against the window, causing Branch to jump back. "Hush! Hush!”</p><p>Then Nate opened the door and shoved Branch into the backseat where the dog hunkered down, hiding in the floorboards with his ears pinned back. Teeth bared, he snarled as Nate shot him a disgusted look, and Matt gave his brother a suspicious side-eye.</p><p>“And here I thought you had such a way with animals.”</p><p>His face still turned away from Matthew, Nate seemed to take a moment to compose himself before turning back to Matt with a smile. “You know what? I've still got some scratch left from the other night, let's grab something.” He grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and thumbed through some wrinkled bills before looking up at Matt before tucking it away again. “My treat.”</p><p>Matt watched Nate’s hands fumble, fingers twisting at the buttons of his shirt. “What, you don't want to go out drinking again?” Nate had made a habit of blowing Matt off most every night, whether they were in the middle of a case or not, more often than not <em> because </em>of a case.</p><p>Matt was more than a little surprised to see him break that trend now.</p><p>But Nate managed to appear stunned at Matt’s reaction, whether he really was or not. “What, you don't want to spend time with your brother?”</p><p>Nate might as well have knocked Matt right over, that would’ve shocked him less. He blinked a few times at his younger brother and tried to figure out exactly what had come over him. But Nate seemed sincere if nothing else, like he really wanted to spend a meal together, and - Matt’s stomach growled - he wouldn’t turn down free food. In fact, he figured that after everything he’d put up with recently, he was owed it.</p><p>“Fine, fine, whatever,” Matt muttered, rolling his eyes.</p><p>Nate smiled and shooed Matt off to his own car. “Lead the way, brother'o'mine!”</p><p>Matt couldn’t help but stare as Nate swung himself into the driver’s seat of the Firebird. Branch continued to bark and growl from the backseat, obviously on edge, until Nate hissed a few harsh words at the dog and slammed the door closed. Matt backed away a few steps as a sinking feeling settled into his gut.</p><p>He returned to the Prius and got in, instinctively checking the mirrors, checking his eyes, but Matt was starting to think that maybe it wasn't himself he should be worried about.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Matt chose a local sushi restaurant for his free meal. As far as food went, it was one of the only things that both brothers could consistently agree on, and there was an all-you-can-eat sushi bar that was open until midnight. So, it seemed like the most viable option.</p><p>Sitting at their table for two near the back of the restaurant, Matt used his straw to fish an ice cube out of his drink and pressed it to each eyelid slowly in an attempt to work away some of the headache that had been building all day. When he heard footsteps approaching, his shoulders jumped, and he dropped the ice against the table where it slipped to the floor and out of sight.</p><p>Nate had returned with a plate piled high with food.</p><p>“You weren’t exaggerating about being hungry,” Matt observed, wiping his napkin over his face.</p><p>Nate’s plate hit the table with a thunk, and he dropped into his seat with a wide grin. “I never exaggerate when food is involved.”</p><p>Matt picked up his chopsticks and broke them apart with another suspicious glare in Nate’s general direction. “Exaggeration is 105% of your personality.”</p><p>“Must run in the family,” Nate muttered with an eye-roll.</p><p>They ate in awkward silence. Of course, that was how they did most things recently, whenever they weren’t arguing. Loudly.</p><p>Matt tried to enjoy his food. He really did, but every time he so much as glanced in Nate’s direction, his brother seemed overly eager to please. Smiling brighter than usual, eyes soft and wide, like they hadn’t been at each other’s throats every moment since…</p><p>“Hey, you remember that time when I begged Ma to rent <em> Predator </em>and we watched it every night for like a week?” Nate asked, twirling a chopstick through his fingers as he spoke. “And then you had nightmares for another week after that of the neighbors breaking in?”</p><p>Matt swallowed his food despite the tightness in his throat and avoided Nate's eyes. “Yeah, we were just talking about that.”</p><p>Nate tapped the end of his chopstick against his plate, and the noise instantly began to grate on Matt’s nerves. Nate was smiling too wide. “I know, I just thought it was funny. I mean, I was usually the one getting nightmares.”</p><p>“I had plenty nightmares of my own, thanks,” Matt snapped. It felt like someone was pouring cold water down his spine. His temper crackled like ice-coated trees in the wind. “Mine just happened to occur at night and not 24/7.”</p><p>Eyes averted, now rolling the chopstick through his fingers, Nate looked up at his brother through dark lashes, brown eyes earnest and sweet as chocolate. “I guess you would understand better than anyone. You know, I never thanked you for looking after me all those years.”</p><p>Matt’s hands curled in the tablecloth draped in his lap, and his jaw tightened.</p><p>“Dude come on, you hated it, I know you did,” Nate continued. Every word that came out of his mouth sent Matt spiraling further into that icy river. “The constant panic attacks, night terrors, ‘seeing things,’ I thought they were rough on <em> me </em>.” Nate’s voice somehow got infinitely softer, but it only made Matt want to scream even more. “I think, thanks to you, I got talked through more of them than I didn't.”</p><p>Matt wanted to believe him. He really did. But he couldn't breathe.</p><p>Nate smiled bashfully. “So, you know, thanks. I owe you a lot.”</p><p>But frankly, Matt thought the entire thing was a load of crap. “Nate, what is going on?”</p><p>Nate’s bashful smile turned nervous, forced. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“With you,” Matt said simply, his own chopstick pointed towards Nate’s chest like a knife. “You've barely said a word to me the last month and a half, and now,” Matt gestured around them, “you want to treat me to sushi?” He dropped his chin, leveling a questioning glare at Nate. “And these cute, little heartfelt confessions?”</p><p>“Well, technically you chose the sushi…” Nate muttered.</p><p>Matt’s glare turned sharp.</p><p>And Nate threw up his hands. “I'm just - I'm just trying to spend some time with my brother.”</p><p>“Why?” Matt asked, and he honestly wanted to know the answer. Because he couldn’t come up with a reason himself. “These days we can't go ten minutes without fighting.”</p><p>“Why? Because you're my brother!” Nate said quickly, too quickly, and he was met with Matt rolling his eyes. Fumbling over his own confusion, Nate scrambled to find something that would diffuse the situation. “Do I need another reason?”</p><p>Suddenly, something dawned on Matt. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”</p><p>“What?” Nate asked, eyes suddenly very wide.</p><p>“Was it that woman you slept with last night? What, was she married?”</p><p>Nate had the audacity to look offended as if he had any right - as if it weren't absolutely something he would do as of late. “No, she's not married! She's a strong, independent woman who just happens to have a pretty possessive brother who obsessively insists they both stick to the family business!” Nate shrugged, trying to pull another bashful look. “I was able to relate, that's all.”</p><p>Matt’s nose wrinkled in disgust. Of course, of course, this was all <em>his</em> fault, as usual. And <em>as usual</em>, Nate couldn't be blamed for anything because of his screwed up brain and his abusive father. Only Matt was every truly to blame. “Oh, were you? Darn, those bullying older brothers. I’m sure you've had your fill of them.”</p><p>Nate tried to play it off with a dry laugh, tongue in cheek, just like he'd tried to handle everything. There wasn't a sincere bone in his alcohol-soaked body. “Matt, I didn't mean it like that. Please, I don't want to fight with you. Not tonight.” He tried to reach across the table but Matt pulled back, his chair scraping across the floor. “I'm just trying to enjoy being brothers,” Nate insisted in a hushed tone.</p><p>But Matt didn’t care about keeping his volume down anymore. He was sick and tired of this. “You've spent three months trying to <em> get away </em> from your brother. Sorry, <em> push </em> him away.” When Nate tried to look stunned, Matt lost the last of his patience. “Oh, don't give me that look! I know your games, Nate, I've known them since we were kids!”</p><p>He leaned across the table towards Nate and glared into his brother’s eyes. “You're scared I'm going to get tired of putting up with your crap and leave you again, so you're trying to force my hand and get it over with. At least then it won’t hurt so bad because you chose it in a way, right?” Matt leaned back. “It’s the same thing you did with your band, isn’t it?”</p><p>Nate’s jaw dropped. “That’s not true!”</p><p>Furious, Matt threw his chopsticks down onto the table. Everyone in the restaurant was staring by that point anyway. He couldn’t care less. “I'm not doing this with you - I <em> can't </em> do this with you, not right now. Not yet. Not like this.” He turned and started to go. He didn’t care if Nate followed him or not.</p><p>“Matt - hey!” Nate called behind him. “Please - please don't go!”</p><p>Those three words twisted an old knife lodged deep in Matt’s chest, cutting open a six year-old wound, and he paused. He’d promised he wouldn’t leave again.</p><p>“I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry,” Nate whispered, eyes darting around the room to all the people pretending not to watch them from the corners of their eyes. “Just - sit down, enjoy a nice meal. At least finish what you've got. I'll stop talking if that helps.”</p><p>He promised, Matt reminded himself, he promised. So Matt sat back down, and started eating again, blatantly ignoring the way that Nate was watching him, frozen. Finally, Nate sighed as if he’d been holding in a breath and - surprise - started talking again, “But I will say this - then I'll shut up, I promise: I've been a tool lately, I know that. I'm sorry. For everything. You're my brother, man, you're my family. Nothing's more important than family.”</p><p>That was it.</p><p>Matt stood up without another word and bolted for the door. He couldn’t take another second of it. Not one more second. Behind him, Nate threw some money on the table and followed him outside to where Matt had already made it to the Prius, ready to tear the door open and leave.</p><p>Branch barked at them both from the back of the Firebird.</p><p>Nate chased after him. “Matt! Wait! Please!”</p><p>Matt spun around in a flash, stopping Nate short. “No! I'm <em> done </em>, Nathan! I'm not going to sit around and play ‘make believe’ like everything is fine and dandy! That may be how you get through life instead of growing up and facing reality, but not me!”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Nate demanded, his cheeks red with shame and shock. “I’m trying to apologize-”</p><p>But neither of them could speak above the sound of Branch’s barking, and almost in unison, they shouted, “Quiet, Branch!”</p><p>The little dog stopped barking, a whine drifting through the window that was cracked a few inches.</p><p>Panting, tearing at his hair, Matt felt himself losing control the longer he had to look at this stranger standing in front of him. “<em> You lied to me </em>! You knew that Afton was still in my head, possessing me, using me to hurt others - to hurt you - and you didn't tell me!”</p><p>Nate laced his fingers behind his neck and spun away from Matt, mind reeling as he tried to figure out how to fix this. After another breath, he turned back. “I know I never told you, I know I screwed up, but I was just trying to do the right thing - to protect you!”</p><p>“That's not your job!” Matt screamed so loud his throat stung with every barbed word. “I have given up <em> everything </em> for you, for a liar I can't even trust! So don't lecture me on how important family is. <em> I </em> know.” He ripped open the door to the Prius. “Call me when <em> you </em>figure it out.”</p><p>Then he climbed inside, started the car, and drove away, never looking back for fear of what he would see in the mirror.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Matt paced back and forth in Room 6, his hands in his hair, his tie and coat discarded on the floor. Images flashed through his mind - things that felt more like nightmares than memories, things that haunted him, that ate away at his insides.</p><p>That week spent with Afton in the cold, dark basement, his fists pounding against his little brother’s face, the taste of copper in his mouth. He remembered the heat from the flames rolling off his house, knowing that Stephanie was trapped somewhere inside. He remembered his hands around Nate’s throat.</p><p>And Caliente, taunting Nate in the motel, the fear in Ethan’s eyes, Nate having to fight back against him. He remembered the camp, striking Aliya across the face, nearly killing the kids - Nate’s broken stitches. That word cut into his skin - Mine, Mine, <em>Mine</em>. It still bled against the backs of Matthew's eyes.</p><p>Matt screamed until he ran out of breath, his hands pressed over his ears, dropping down to his knees.</p><p>Something cold stood over him.</p><p>“Poor little MatPat,” cooed a voice that curled like smoke. “All these nasty little memories, they don’t exactly paint you in a pretty light, do they? All the pain you’ve caused, all the destruction.”</p><p>“It wasn’t me,” Matt whimpered, fingernails digging into his scalp. “It wasn’t me, I didn’t - I couldn’t…”</p><p>“Have you ever thought it was funny? How that day in the office you stopped yourself from hurting dear little Suzie… But you never once stopped me from terrorizing sweet Nathan? Hm?” The voice buzzed in the back of Matt’s skull. It slithered somewhere deep inside his chest. He wanted to cut it out of himself.</p><p>“Could it be that, some part of you thinks that he <em>deserves</em> it?”</p><p>Matt’s eyes opened wide, staring at the floor. No, that couldn’t be true. He didn’t think that. He loved Nate. He did, or... he thought he did.</p><p>“He ruined your life, Matt. Stole your mother’s affection. He was her little pet project, wasn’t he?”</p><p>“Shut up.” Matt’s body shook.</p><p>“You who were always on your best behavior. You just wanted to please her, but every time he acted out, every time dear John hurt his poor little feelings, what did she do? No wonder you left the first chance you got.”</p><p>“Shut up!” Matt’s back bowed, hunched over himself, unable to move.</p><p>“I mean, really, Matt. You didn’t even bother to find your own brother to let him know you were getting married. Didn’t want Stephanie to meet the better looking brother, am I right?”</p><p>It wasn’t right - not any of it. He didn’t really think those things. He didn’t really feel that way. He couldn’t. Matt shook his head, shook it so violently, the world spun around him. Finally, screaming, “You’re wrong! You’re wrong!”</p><p>“Matthew… Look at me.”</p><p>And he did. Matt raised his head and saw his own reflection in the full length mirror set against one wall of the motel room, his own smile shining back at him through ice-locked eyes. “You know I’m right,” he heard, his own voice.</p><p>“No.” Matt pushed himself up, and the reflection moved with him.</p><p>“Do you really think he’s better off with you? You? The one who couldn’t hold me back? Things got a little rough last time Nate and I had a few moments alone. Are you sure you’re what’s best for him, Matthew?” The reflection danced the tip of his tongue over his lips. “I mean, he’s done so much better since you got him away from John, right?”</p><p>Suddenly Matt couldn’t take it anymore, and he rushed at the mirror, pounding his fists against it, harder and harder and harder until the glass began to break into shards and slivers that caught in Matt’s skin and cut deep until he bled.</p><p>But his blood ran thick and black like the tears that had run down his face the night of the fire, and when Matt saw his reflection staring back at him in a hundred fractured pieces - it was Afton. Only Afton.</p><p>And he woke up screaming.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. is it naptime yet?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Time to solve the mystery!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Corpus Christi, Texas<br/>
October, 2011</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy sipped her chamomile tea and told herself to breathe slowly. Paris told her that it would help calm her nerves, but the cup shook in Nancy’s fingers, her nail polish chipped from where she’d been picking at it all day. The TV set playing in the corner added an extra distraction but didn’t take away the gnawing sense of dread deep down in her chest. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t her Steven sleeping in the other room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And with Branch gone, too…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She drew her knees closer to her chest on the old couch and stopped herself from picking at one of the places where the fabric was frayed with age and exposed the cushion beneath. She had to be logical about this. Those two guys weren’t exactly who they said they were - that much she was pretty certain of - but they did seem to want to help. And maybe they could.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>Or maybe they would only make things worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the other room in the little trailer, Nancy heard a sharp cry. She froze, muscles stiff and eyes wide, and the scream quickly became a muffled sob. Rising to her feet, she crossed the room to the door leading to her and Steven’s shared bedroom. Nancy knocked softly. “Steven? Are you okay in there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence, and then another small, muffled sob - she decided to open the door and go in. The room was cramped, much too little for two people to sleep comfortably in. But even after losing their parents, Nancy hadn’t bothered to move her stuff into the other bedroom. They hadn’t wanted to change a thing about it anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now, she eased herself towards the bottom bunk of their bed and knelt down beside it. A little boy was tangled up in his blankets, and Nancy knew that it might not be her brother but it certainly looked like he was. So she reached out and brushed Steven's brown hair back from his face where he cried into his pillow. “Steven?” His eyes opened, red and wet with tears as he looked up at her warily. “Another nightmare?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded his head just slightly, and Nancy hesitated a moment, chewing on the corner of her mouth. She wasn’t sure about the boy who had come home, but right now, he needed a big sister. And that much she could do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mind if I lay down with you? I can’t sleep by myself either.” She watched his face change from fear and shame to something like relief, all very subtle shifts in his expressions. He nodded again, rubbing the tears from his eyes into the pillow case. Nancy smiled, crawled into the bed behind him, and slipped beneath the covers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steven remained very still, a few inches away from her, which struck Nancy as odd. Usually, when he had nightmares, Nancy would crawl into the bed with him, and he would snuggle close, wrap his arms around her like he trusted her to protect him from anything. They were nearly a decade apart in age, and it made for an interesting sibling relationship, especially when Nancy had to be a mom as much as she was a big sister. She didn’t mind - it's what he needed, but now, Steven seemed anxious about having her so close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled over to face her, his eyes mostly hidden in shadow and tufts of his hair. Nancy pulled the blanket up to his chin. “You can tell me if there's something bothering you. Maybe talking about it will help?"
</span></p><p>
  <span>The little boy curled up tighter, a sigh escaping his chest. It seemed like he was weighing his options in his mind, and it made Nancy smile a little. Steven had always been smart for such a young kid, always serious, always watching others very closely, and now, he seemed even more contemplative than ever. “What if I’m not… the Steven you want me to be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy thought about that for a moment, thought about her brother and all her memories of him, and thought about the kid she was comforting now. Closing her eyes and letting the exhaustion of the last few days finally pull her towards sleep, Nancy answered with a yawn, “Doesn’t matter. We still need each other.” After a moment of silence, she added, “Right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steven took a deep, calming breath and realized how much better he felt just having Nancy near him. In fact, he couldn’t even remember what his nightmare had been about. She was so nice and obviously worried about him, and he wanted to be Steven for her, because she seemed like the best big sister a kid could ask for. So, he smiled a little, nodded his head, and snuggled even closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next morning at the Hold ‘Em motel, Matt lay in bed staring at the ceiling with bloodshot eyes. A night of tossing and turning, nightmares whenever he made the mistake of letting himself fall asleep, and resisting the urge to call Stephanie with every fiber of his being. Sunlight peaked through the curtains to his right, a new day dawning, but Matt couldn’t bring himself to get up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was the point?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything he’d done lately was for nothing. He couldn’t stand to see his brother’s face - he'd failed him. He couldn’t go home to his wife - he would just endanger her. He couldn’t do anything but lay there and wonder when the next time the monster in his head was going to make an appearance and rip his world apart again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt’s phone buzzed somewhere among the sheets, and he fished it out to see a text from his brother. Stomach turning, Matt read the message while rubbing at his tired eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>found it! got bfast. come to discuss when you’re up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt groaned and shuddered inside. He couldn’t spend another day arguing with his brother, couldn’t spend another day chasing a monster and pretending he was a hunter. He just wanted to give up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just wanted to see Stephanie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In room 9 of the motel, Nate sat at the desk and leafed through his notebook of drawings: snarling monsters, doodles of Pokemon, rotting animatronics, John’s face, anime characters, dead kids from his hallucinations, even Afton himself, all mixed together, though the more recent drawings grew increasingly dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scowled down at them in disgust before a knock on the door drew his attention away from this notebook full of shrink's fodder. Standing, he dropped the open notebook onto the desk covered in even more fast food bags and wrappers than the day before, and he moved to the door as Branch rose from his place in the corner and started barking again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut it!” Nate hissed and checked the peep hole before opening the door for Matthew who looked like he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep all night long. His clothes were rumpled, his eyes red and groggy, and when the door opened, he shuffled inside without a word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt paused, however, when he noticed the mess in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning. I, uh, had breakfast…” Nate commented when he saw the look on Matt’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see that.” He turned back to Nate, looking him up and down. “You going through a growth spurt or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate shrugged the comment off as Matt looked him over, but honestly, Matt was too tired to really care about his brother’s eating habits. Instead, he watched Nate swipe up a few of the greasy bags and wrappers, cramming them all into one big ball that he shot towards the trash can in the corner. Meanwhile, Matt spotted the notebook lying open on top of the desk. The drawings he saw on the pages startled him - the grotesque features and shapes of bodies, nightmares all twisted together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Nate flipped it closed as he tidied-up and tossed it onto the bed, stealing a short glance up at his brother to see if he'd noticed. Rather than raise the issue, among all the many other issues, Matt turned away to where he saw that Branch had slowly approached him. The dog had been more than a little wary of him the previous day, but now, he seemed to look at Matt almost like a lighthouse in a storm, whining softly and resting his front paws on Matt’s knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Branch,” Matt said gently and rubbed at the dog’s ears. He felt a little of the tension in his chest smooth out at the dog’s presence. “You eaten yet, buddy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I gave him something,” Nate commented as he scooped more trash up from the floor around the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt didn’t look up from petting Branch as he asked, “What’d you give him?” He didn’t see any signs of dog food around. They'd planned to get some after dinner the previous night, but... Matt had sort of forgotten about that. What with the breakdown he'd had in the middle of the sushi restaurant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, some sausage links.” Nate crammed more of the garbage into the little bin in the corner that was very quickly filling up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt sighed, shook his head, and took Branch’s little face in his hands. “We’ll have to see if we can get you some real food then, eh buddy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can take care of it!” Nate said quickly, trying to balance the last of the trash on top of the pile coming out of the garbage can and failing. Some of the wadded up napkins fell on the floor around it, and Nate, huffing, decided to leave them there. He brushed his hands on his pants. “Just didn’t want to leave him alone long enough to go get something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt gestured towards the trash. “You went to get all of this.” And didn’t think to leave any for me, Matt thought a bit sourly. Not so much as a cup of coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate didn’t respond, biting down on his lip and shrugging his shoulders a bit instead. With a sigh, Matt dropped down onto the edge of the bed. Again, he was too tired to care. All he wanted to do was finish this hunt, and… and then what?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Go on to the next one? And the next? Until it killed him? Until John found them?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt felt that shift in his chest as the panic from the previous night returned, and he screwed his eyes closed to shut it down quickly, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyelids. If Nate sensed Matt’s inner turmoil, he didn’t bother to show it. Instead he went to the coffee maker and started a pot, hoping that might mend any harsh feelings about breakfast. Or the night before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, after a few moments of silence passed, Nate added, “So, I did some more digging last night. A lot of digging, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt ducked his head and leaned his elbows on his knees, feeling like he was going to be sick. “Oh, did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Mostly into Cliff and the whole haunted house thing.” Nate spun around and leaned back against the counter where the coffeepot was plugged into the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking, Matt scrubbed his hand through his messy hair. “Why him? We already searched that place. Twice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, unfortunately, it's the only lead we got. I looked into the other families but nothing came up.” Nate shrugged his shoulders and glanced towards Branch who had planted himself firmly at Matt’s feet, leaned against one of his legs. “Plus, something about the whole thing bugs me. Why did you see something similar all those years ago if there was nothing there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides the fact that Nancy said she'd seen Steven get taken at Gallagher's when she wasn't even there when it happened,” Matt added with a sigh as his stomach tried to settle again. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He’d seen Nancy’s eyes as she’d told him that she was positive she’d seen her brother taken. He thought that he’d been a better judge of character.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt glanced towards Nate. Of course, he’d thought a lot of things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She wasn’t there?” Nate asked, still not picking up on Matt’s inner conflict.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She wasn't on the security footage with Steven when he went,” Matt said, his voice growing more sour with every word, “or at all until she started protesting outside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate cocked his head to the side. “Huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, did you find anything?” Matt asked, unable to appear truly interested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Definitely!” Nate pushed off the counter and strode across the room to his bag where he pulled out a different notebook. He spent a few moments flipping through the pages before he handed it to Matt and returned to the countertop to pour their coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gallagher's has been around since the 40's as a regular old haunted house. They travel around, set up shop, and people love it.” He glanced at Matt over his shoulder. “They're kinda well known in fan clubs of those types of things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He returned with the cup of coffee and sat down on the bed beside Matt who shifted over a few inches to put some distance between them. Nate didn't mention that either as he continued catching Matt up to speed, “And remember what Cliff said about it being a ‘family business’? Seems it is. Cliff took charge back around 2003, and the whole business got a facelift.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate took a sip of the coffee and grimaced at the bitter taste before saying, “Die hard fans hated it, but it got more popular with all the recent technology updates and social media presence and all that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...and?” Matt asked with a raised eyebrow at the cup in Nate's hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate realized his mistake, “Oh, sorry,” and handed the coffee over as Matt scowled down at it. But he was tired and decided that cooties were probably a thing best left to ten year-olds, so he took a sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, thanks to said social media, I was able to backtrack where they've gone every year since then, and get this: every town they've gone to had a string of missing kids who were then reported not-missing within a few days.” Nate handed over a list of family names and locations that he’d found and written on a napkin. “And there's nothing else reported with any of those families later on. Gallagher's gets away squeaky clean each time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt stared down at the list and blinked his bleary eyes at it. “Huh. So the kids <em>always</em> come back?” He thought about that for a moment and realized that Nate was waiting, so he decided to ask the obvious, “Then why take them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crocotta,” Nate answered and tapped the notebook in Matt’s other hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt squinted at the pages, but his eyelids were heavy and the words didn’t want to stay in the right places. “Come again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's not a skinwalker. You're right, the MO is completely different.” Nate started ticking the reasons off on his fingers. “Skinwalkers usually work alone, and they certainly don't go around kidnapping kids and sending out little baby skinwalkers. No, this is a crocotta. I'm almost certain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gestured down at the page, including another creepy drawing of the creature that Matt wrinkled his nose at as Nate explained. “It's basically human besides the fact that it lives in filth and can mimic people's voices specifically to lure their victims away and then feed on their emotions.” Nate glanced down at Branch again, and the dog watched him carefully. “Steven said he was disconnected from his own memories, right? Well, I think it's because he lost all his emotional ties to those memories. Like they aren't even his own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt took another sip of his coffee as his vision continued to blur and he had to suppress a yawn. “So this thing is haunting a haunted house so it can lure away kids, suck on their ‘emotional memories’ and then turn them lose to return to their families?” It seemed odd, even for monsters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate shrugged his shoulders. “It makes more sense then kidnapping them and sending out a doppelganger for no conceivable reason, don't you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt stifled another yawn with the back of his hand before pointing down at the coffee. “You sure this isn’t decaf?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing towards the package on the counter, Nate nodded his head, and Matt shrugged and drank it anyway. Nate tried to catch his gaze. “Long night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like he really cared. “I guess you could say that,” Matt grumbled. Another sip of coffee, another stifled yawn. “So crocotta - how do we kill it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate reached over to grab a small box from his bag. “Silver bullets, just like a skinwalker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt frowned at the box as Nate shook it. “Really? Why? They aren't even close to being related... You know what?” He shook his head and took another sip of coffee. “Never mind. I'm just ready to kill this thing, and get out of town.” Standing up and swaying a bit as he did, Matt headed for the door and left the last of his coffee on the counter. It obviously wasn’t doing him any good anyway. But he paused before he left and looked back at Nate. There was one more snag they had to think about. “If we kill it, will the kids go back to normal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The more Matt thought about it, the more he realized that the only thing he could bring himself to care about was that Steven and Nancy had to be okay when all was said and done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They should,” Nate said with a single-shoulder shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt blinked at that. Somehow it seemed too good to be true, which - in their line of work - usually meant that it was. “How? I thought it was feeding off them? As in devouring?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate made a grabbing motion with his hands as he spoke, “Well, I figure this thing is mostly collecting the ... emotions, since it only hunts once a year when Gallagher's is kicking.” His fingers uncurled as he continued. “We just have to kill it, and either that will release everything, or we'll find whatever he's keeping it in and smash it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt raised an eyebrow again. “‘He’?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah,” Nate said, as if he’d forgotten. “It’s Cliff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cliff? The guy who runs the -” Matt paused, poked out his bottom lip, and nodded. “No, yeah... that does make sense. ‘Family business,’ knowing about the kids being home, all that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hating us?” Nate offered with one of his easy grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, no, that's pretty par for the course to be fair.” Matt leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, we head to Gallagher's and waste him, right? That's all we need to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate stood from the bed, tossed the box of silver bullets into the air, and caught it again. “I mean, sure, but you seem a little eager.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt looked down at the floor, something cold and tar-like in growing his chest from the exhaustion, from the wall between him and his brother, from everything. “I'm sick of things hurting kids. I'm sick of us getting cases about things hurting kids.” He shrugged his shoulders. “So, we take them out one sick monster at a time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ll get my gear!” Nate said, looking impressed with his brother’s resolve. Then he glanced towards Branch in the corner. “Besides, the sooner we figure this out the sooner we can get the dog back home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, Matt’s brow wrinkled up while suppressing a yawn. “Yeah, why does Branch hate Steven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate watched the dog’s ears prick up at the sound of his name. He still looked anxious, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. “He's a dog, dude, he probably smells that evil SOB on him or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt nodded. It was all the explanation he needed as another yawn made his eyes start to water. He pushed off the door, opened it, and started out. “Twenty minutes. Then we can go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got it,” Nate said with a smile and a finger gun, and as soon as the door shut behind Matt, Nate glared at the dog in the corner, wishing he had a faster way to get rid of the mutt.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>Branch stiffened, glaring right back at him, and a low growl resonated in the dog's throat as he bared his teeth.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Mr. Sandman</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>... man me a sand</p><p>It's weird hearing Matt more than ready to gank the bad guy, but we can't blame him this time around.</p><p>Warning for slight body horror.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Corpus Christi, Texas<br/>October, 2011</p><p>Steven laid on his belly in his small bed, surrounded by markers and crayons that Paris had given him as a “Welcome Home” present. Paris seemed nice, but Steven wasn’t sure how he was supposed to treat her. Nancy had suggested he draw her a picture with his new colors, but that was proving to be rather difficult. He just couldn’t think of anything to draw, so once again providing a solution, Nancy offered up an battered, half-used coloring book she found stuffed beneath his bed.</p><p>Of course, coloring in the lines didn’t exactly help. Steven made an honest attempt, he really did, but colors and art just didn’t seem to be his thing. He huffed and blew his brown bangs out of his eyes, tilting his head to observe the beautiful beach scene that he was coloring to look more like the scene of a crime with too many reds and dark blues. That he knew of, he'd never seen the ocean himself, so he wasn't sure how it was supposed to look. But he could assume that this wasn't it.</p><p>Nancy knocked on the door to their room and poked her head in. The curtain was drawn around Steven’s bunk, a little attempt at privacy in their tiny house, and while he didn’t normally bother with it, lately, it seemed to always be fixed between them.</p><p>Nancy sighed and nibbled at the corner of her bottom lip nervously. “Steven? Are you hungry?” When he didn’t answer, she continued chewing at her lip until she broke through the already tender skin and hissed at herself. “Um, I'm making some pancakes. Paris let us borrow some chocolate chips, too. I know how much you like sweets.” She knew that this was an obvious resort to bribery in order to earn his favor again, but she wasn’t above it.</p><p>Nancy just wanted her kid brother back.</p><p>Steven’s stomach growled in hunger despite his very best efforts to keep the little traitor quiet, and ever since he’d heard Nancy’s knock at the door, he’d subconsciously started scratching at the skin on his arm. His fingernails left behind odd white scrapes across his skin. But he didn't seem to notice that this was odd, and the more Nancy spoke, the more Steven felt guilty, felt empty, the deeper he scratched until his skin tore.</p><p>It wasn’t like he remembered it being. There was no blood, just the feeling of something slick and slimy and wrong. He shuddered, pulling his fingers back, but he felt no pain. So he peeled the skin back, eyes wide, heart hammering in his chest.</p><p>In that moment, Nancy drew back the edge of the curtain and gasped. Her eyes settled on the torn skin as Steven jumped in surprise. His mouth moved to try to make some kind of explanation, but instead, it all got choked in his throat when he saw the look of terror in Nancy’s eyes. She grabbed him, tugged him along into the kitchen, lifted him up onto the kitchen counter between the sink and the stovetop, and pulled his arm over the sink to wash off…</p><p>But there was no blood, only a foamy, bubbly substance that sizzled up from the wound and began to knit the skin back together.</p><p>Panting a little, Nancy swept the stray hairs back from her eyes and asked, “Are you hurt?” She put a hand under Steven’s chin, tilting up his face so that he would look her in the eye.</p><p>“No, I don’t feel anything,” he answered honestly, and somehow, he knew that was worse. What kind of monster didn’t feel it when his own skin was ripped off?</p><p>Nancy took a closer look at his arm, at the dead skin drying out and flaking off, and she peeled away the last of it with trembling fingers. Steven didn't so much as flinch. Nancy tried not to visibly shudder before she tossed it towards the trash and started searching for the first-aid kit that she knew was around the kitchen somewhere. “Okay - okay, we can just wrap it up, and you'll be good as new.”</p><p>“I think I already am,” Steven said, and when Nancy turned back to him, she saw that he was right.</p><p>The new skin was pink like a baby’s, and as it began to dry, it changed to match the color of the rest of Steven’s skin, as if the injury had never happened. Steven poked at it, and after a moment, Nancy did, too. It felt normal. Healthy. But she wouldn’t describe what she’d just seen as healthy, not in a million years.</p><p>But she really wanted to stay calm for her brother, stay rational, no matter how badly she was starting to wish she could find a pillow to scream into. “Okay, okay, it's fine! You're fine! It's just dead skin. Maybe you burnt it or something.” Tears started to fill the corners of her eyes against her will. “Maybe it's a part of growing up!”</p><p>She hated having to be the adult, especially when she was scared.</p><p>“Nancy. I think it means I’m a freak,” Steven muttered, honestly, flatly.</p><p>Shocked out of her moment of weakness, Nancy flew to him, took his shoulders first to try to assure him, and then cupped his dejected face in her hands. “What? No! No, you are <em> not </em> a freak! You're my little brother, Steven Harold Wells.”</p><p>But Steven smacked her hands away from him, flinching back from her almost, and he slammed both hands down on either side of where he sat. He leaned forward. "I'm not! I'm not! We both know it! Just because I look like Steven and think like Steven and know all the stuff he should, that doesn't mean I am him!”</p><p>There were no tears in his voice or his eyes, but his body shook even as he tried to hold himself still. Even as he shouted in her face, “I'm not Steven, and we both know it!”</p><p>Nancy immediately wanted to argue with him, but before she could, she noticed an odd smell. For a moment, she thought it might have been the pancakes she’d been making, spilling a little batter onto the burner to make that smell. But then she realized that one of Steven’s hands was resting on top of the hot burner, his skin red against the heat.</p><p>Screaming, she tore Steven down from where he sat, and he screamed, too, either from pain or fright, she couldn’t tell. But as his feet hit the floor, he stumbled back from her. “Oh my god! Here, here - over here!” Nancy kept hold of his arm and pulled him towards the sink. She put his hand beneath the faucet and ran cold water over the burns, one arm wrapped around him and patting at his head and shoulders as she tried to calm him down.</p><p>Steven’s chest heaved, his hand reaching to claw at his skin some more, but he balled up the fabric of his shirt instead, twisting until his collar grew tight around his throat. But with Nancy’s reassuring words and a few gentle kisses to his cheeks and forehead, he finally released his shirt and took a deep breath.</p><p>After they both seemed a little calmer, Nancy gathered her courage and looked at Steven’s hand. Rather than burns like she expected, Steven’s flesh was something like melted and re-hardened wax, deformed and unnatural. They both stared. It wasn’t a burn exactly, and there was no way for Nancy to try to explain it away this time.</p><p>So Steven reached for a nearby hand towel, and wrapping his hand, he began to pull at the deformed, waxy skin. Nancy reacted immediately by grabbing his arm and trying to stop him. “Steven! What are you doing?! Steven, stop!”</p><p>But he ignored her. With a small whimper, he continued pulling at the skin until it peeled away, too. Beneath it, new, pink skin had already formed. It still had the texture of scar tissue, but it was, again, healthy. His whole body shuddering in disgust, Steven tossed the towel full of dead, slimy skin onto the floor and retreated from it until his back hit the edge of the countertop.</p><p>He gave another small cry when Nancy took his wrist to look at his hand, but he shook his head. “It’s - it’s fine.”</p><p>“Did it hurt?” Nancy asked, a little dazed and very, very frightened. “I mean - are you okay? What just happened?”</p><p>They both looked towards the towel and the lump of disgusting, unnatural flesh that quickly began to dry up on the cracked linoleum. Steven shivered again and brushed a thumb over the new skin of his palm. “I don’t know.”</p><p>Slowly his gaze rose to meet Nancy’s.</p><p>“But I don’t think it’s normal.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The early afternoon was grayer than usual, the sky an unmarred slate of flat white clouds, and Matt yawned again as he got out of the passenger side of the Firebird. The weather wasn’t yet cool enough to give the real feeling of autumn, and Matt wished they could get out of town and head north, somewhere the leaves were already changed and he could take a deep breath.</p><p>But he knew that as long as John Smith was on their backs, he’d never be able to really breathe easily.</p><p>Shutting the door, he blinked his dry eyes and checked them in the reflection on the window. They were tired, weary, certainly not himself, but - they showed no one else either. So Matt nodded and turned to face the haunted house. It was as empty as they’d ever seen it that early in the day still. At least it would make what they had to do next a little easier.</p><p>“So, how does this work? We ask him to come outside for a little chat and then bury the body by the creek?” He felt for his gun where it rested in the holster beneath the fabric of his suit coat.</p><p>“I guess,” Nate said with a shrug as he checked the silver bullets in his own gun before tucking it away and kneeling down to slip a small, silver knife into the sheath on his ankle. “No need to get fancy with it.”</p><p>Matt couldn’t agree more.</p><p>They headed for the front door. No need to be discreet either, at least not yet. Matt stifled another yawn, though he wasn’t sure why he even bothered anymore. Even the brief nap he’d taken before they left hadn’t helped, and he was already sleep deprived to the point that closing his eyes for more than just a few moments would have him nodding off.</p><p>Nate noticed and raised his eyebrows. “What, did the coffee not help?”</p><p>Matt tugged at his tie and his collar, trying to loosen both at least a little. “I think whatever bug you caught, you gave it to me.”</p><p>Nate frowned at that, but if Matt noticed, he didn’t comment. Instead, he pushed his way inside the building.</p><p>He’d already been there more times that he cared to, and he was hoping this trip would be his last. At least his multiple trips and searches through the building had afforded a general understanding of the layout, and even with all the props and things set up, they managed to maneuver through the building quietly.</p><p>“He’s probably in the office,” Nate offered under his breath, and Matt nodded, motioning for Nate to lead the way.</p><p>But as they turned in that direction, a voice behind them asked, “Agents?”</p><p>They whirled around to see Cliff standing at the top of the back staircase, frowning down at them. Matt straightened his spine. “Sir-”</p><p>“No! No, I've had enough.” Cliff stormed down the steps, footfalls echoing through the house in the daytime silence. “Leave! Or arrest me and shut me down! But quit-” But his raving stopped short when he caught sight of Nate, and he froze in place.</p><p>He had a look of horror as if he was looking at a ghost, and when Matt turned to his brother, he saw a strange gleam in his eye. Softly, Cliff asked, “What have you done?”</p><p>Smirking, Nate answered, “I figured you out. Surprised?”</p><p>Matt wanted to defuse the situation before it got any messier than it needed to. “Mr. Clifton, if you would just come with us, we can get everything-”</p><p>But before Matt could finish his thought, Cliff bolted, heading back up the stairs to the second floor.</p><p>“Hey!” Nate shouted, and both of them dashed after him. Nate drew his gun and aimed ahead of him as they moved. “I’ll go around back!”</p><p>Matt was unable to argue or demand that they stick together, before Nate had already disappeared around another corner. Left to his own devices, Matt went in the direction he thought he’d seen Cliff disappear, his gun held at the ready and his silver knife waiting at his hip. He picked through the haunted hospital area, ducking through plastic tarps and giving a wide berth to the giant cage in one corner until he reached the door at the end of that room.</p><p>Reaching for the handle, he yawned again. Frustrated with himself, he pinched his own arm hard to try to wake himself up, and in his distracted state, he didn’t notice Cliff emerging from his hiding place behind one of the dummies set up against the wall. The slightly larger man tackled Matt, fighting for the gun. As they fell to the floor, the weapon slipped from Matt’s hand and clattered a few feet away towards the cage.</p><p>“I should have killed that little bitch the first time she came poking around here!” Cliff growled as he tried to pin Matt down beneath him.</p><p>Matt gasped and, regaining some of his senses, worked an arm free of Cliff’s hold and elbowed him hard in the jaw. But rather than flinching backward at the blow, Cliff’s body reverberated with the impact like a mound of jello, and Matt shrank back from him in disgust as he got back to his feet. What was this thing?</p><p>Growling, Cliff rose from the floor and threw himself at Matt again, but this time, Matt pulled his knife and slashed at Cliff’s abdomen. The silver blade split his skin, and a gloppy, white puss spilled out of him. Cliff wailed. The substance covered Matt’s hands, and he gagged at the putrid smell, the sticky, melted wax sensation that quickly began to dry on his skin.</p><p>The monster's eyes burned with rage. But when Cliff made another swipe, Matt slashed the knife from stomach to sternum, and as Cliff screamed and screeched and clutched at the wounds, more of the disgusting goop sprayed from his chest, all over Matt’s face. Matthew staggered back, trying to wipe the mess off his face as his vision began to blur.</p><p>His back hit the bars of the cage, and before his own eyes, he saw Cliff’s body begin to knit itself back together, fresh pink skin rising to the surface in a foamy, oozing spray. And with that, Cliff began to advance on him again.</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>Cliff turned just in time to see Nate standing in the other doorway before the other hunter unloaded his clip into the monster’s chest. Screeching and tearing at his skin with his fingernails, he fell to his knees on the floor. More of the puss exuded from the bullet holes along with blood, and finally, Cliff fell over, dead.</p><p>Matt, head still light and spinning, felt his knees give out from under him. The rancid goo smeared across his face began to sink into his skin, and he collapsed against the metal cage. Nate rushed towards him as he fell.</p><p>“Hey, hey, Matt! Hey, buddy!” He grabbed his brother and shook him, tried to look him over for injuries, but Matt was struggling to stay conscious. “Eyes open, stay with me, Matt,” Nate pleaded.</p><p>But Matt’s mind was numb, feeling escaping him as he was consumed by the static sensation across his skin. And he sank into darkness like a stone beneath brackish water.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Matt awoke to something wet on his face, and he instinctively reached out to brush it away only for his hands to hit soft fur. He opened his eyes to see Branch with his front paws leaned against the side of the bed, his nose in Matt’s face and hair, snuffling around to see if he was okay.</p><p>“Branch - Branch! Get down!” Nate shouted and came to pull the dog away just as Matt reached up to pet him groggily. But as his eyes adjusted to the low light of the small room, he watched Branch dart back to the corner, away from Nate, ears tucked back.</p><p>They were in the motel room.</p><p>Groaning, Matt tried to sit up. He couldn’t seem to form words just yet to ask, well, anything, but Nate put a hand on his shoulder to steady him as Matt swayed wildly, still feeling almost drunk from whatever effect the monster’s gross mucus had had on him.</p><p>“Hey, hey, take it easy,” Nate cautioned gently. “You passed out, man, but I managed to get you back to the room in one piece I think. Uh, here.” He handed Matt a half empty water bottle, or at least what Matt assumed was a water bottle since his vision was still murky and distorted at best. And when Nate chuckled at his helpless state, Matt fixed him with an attempt at a grumpy glare. With his eyes ever-threatening to slip closed, the glare didn't quite have the edge he intended.</p><p>“Sorry, dude,” Nate apologized, only laughing more, “but you crashed. And you crashed hard. You’ve been out a few hours. Here, drink something.” He helped support Matt’s hand that held the water bottle as his brother lifted it shakily to his lips and took a few gulps like he hadn’t drank water in days.</p><p>Finally, Matt smacked his mouth and frowned. “Tastes like feet.”</p><p>Nate’s forehead wrinkled up, half in confusion and half in amusement. “How do you know what - you know, never mind. You hungry?” He started reaching for one of the boxes of crackers he’d picked up from the gas station while Matt was out. But Matt didn’t respond, just stared down at his hands like he was trying to remember how they worked. “You feeling okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Matt muttered. The water did help some, like it was lifting the fog in Matt’s mind, and slowly, the events of the fight with Cliff came back to him. “What the heck happened back there? I remember the fight, but after that…” He rubbed his face, trying to make himself wake up more.</p><p>“You passed out about the time that I took him down with the silver bullets. Worked like a charm, by the way.” Nate got up from the bed and went to the counter where he opened yet another bag of food and got out a sandwich for Matt. Behind him, Matt whistled softly for Branch, and the dog bounded up onto the bed with him, snuggling close.</p><p>Nate turned back to him and frowned at the dog. “Since you were down and out, I burned the body, smashed up the hexed mason jars I found stored in his car, and badda bing badda boom, here we are.” Suddenly unwilling to come near Matt's bed again - Nate tossed the wrapped sandwich to Matt who only just managed to catch it, still a bit addled and sleepy.</p><p>“Hexed mason jars?” Matt asked as he unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. His mouth still tasted weird, but at the same time, he felt famished. Branch nudged Matt’s shoulder, so he pulled out a slice of ham from the sandwich and fed it to the dog with a smile.</p><p>“Yeah, it stored the kid’s ‘emotions’ in them or whatever, just like we thought," Nate added, as if it were an afterthought. "So I smashed them, there was a flash of pretty lights, and I assume everyone’s back to normal.” Nate shrugged his shoulders and snagged some of the crackers.</p><p>Matt frowned and started searching around for his phone. “You haven't checked in with anyone? What about Nancy?”</p><p>“No, I don't have her number. Besides, I've been a little busy with other stuff.” As Matt continued to search for his phone, Nate went over to where he’d plugged it in and grabbed it.</p><p>“You could have gotten it from my phone,” Matt offered with a yawn and chuckled softly as Branch began to lick his face again.</p><p>Nate tossed the phone from hand to hand until he had Matt’s attention again. “Dude, privacy much? I'm good. I was going to swing by there anyway, take the mutt back.” He pitched Matt the phone, still not getting near to the bed or Branch.</p><p>But as Matthew caught it, he looked sadly over at the dog. “Oh. Oh yeah, I guess we should do that.” The thought hadn’t really occurred to him. Of course, not many thoughts were occurring to him at the moment. He still felt so groggy.</p><p>“Well, I'm going to go pack up, I guess. Get his stuff.” Nate gestured towards the door, and Matt nodded, his fingers still curled in Branch’s fur as he scratched the dog’s back. Nate snapped his fingers, turning back to his brother as he opened the door. “Better call the girl and let her know we're coming.”</p><p>Matt watched as the door shut behind him. So that was it, it was really over. They could move on to the next thing. Matt’s shoulders sagged, and he looked down at his phone, his wallpaper of Stephanie. He wished he was going home to her.</p><p>Beside him, Branch whined and nosed at Matt’s hair. “I’m okay,” he told the dog, scratching his ears. But he wasn’t, and even Branch knew that. Matt dialed Nancy’s number and waited for her to answer.</p><p>
  <em> “Hello?” </em>
</p><p>“Hey, Nancy. This is - easy, Branch!” Matthew was immediately assaulted the moment that Branch heard Nancy’s voice through the phone, and laughing, he pushed the dog off of him.</p><p>
  <em> “Branch! Is he - is he alright?” </em>
</p><p>Matt laughed as Branch’s tail wagged so fast that it created a small wind, blowing the sandwich wrapper around. “Yeah, yeah, he's fine. Hey, um, how is everything where you are? How's Steven?”</p><p><em> “Oh! He's - terrific! All of a sudden he started laughing, and bouncing around, and he wouldn't stop chatting. He's with Paris right now, watering her flowers.” </em> It sounded like there were tears in Nancy’s eyes, and it made Matt’s chest swell, his eyes slipped closed. He was so glad to hear they’d done some good after all.</p><p>
  <em> “I don't know what you did, or how you helped, but it was like a light was switched on. He's my little brother again.” </em>
</p><p>But when Matt’s eyes closed, his head started listing to the side as sleep threatened to pull him under again. He blinked his eyes quickly and shook his head. “Great. That's great. I'm glad we could help. You two just…” He tried to regain his focus on the conversation but couldn’t seem to.</p><p>
  <em> “Are you alright, Agent?” </em>
</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,” Matt answered through a yawn. “We just had a long night, that's all.” Branch pushed his way under Matt’s arm and flopped down against his chest, and Matt had to admit that the weight and the warmth of the dog resting against him felt comforting, secure. He yawned again.</p><p>Through the phone, Nancy’s voice had an obvious smile, <em> “Well, you better get some rest.” </em></p><p>Then Matt remembered the other reason that he’d called. “Hey, Nate was wanting to bring Branch back today, get him out of the motel. If that's alright.”</p><p>
  <em> “Are you kidding? That's great! Steven misses him like crazy.” </em>
</p><p>Branch whined and bumped his nose against the phone in Matt’s hand like he could understand what they were saying, like he was ready to go home and see his boy again. Matt smiled even more. “Good. He'll probably do that later, or I might swing by with him after I get a little shut eye.”</p><p><em> “Of course,” </em> Nancy said gratefully. <em> “Take care of yourself. We'll be here. And if not, Paris can take care of him. Thank you, Mr. Towers.” </em></p><p>His eyes slipping closed again, Matt let his head rest back against the wall. “Call me Matt.”</p><p>
  <em> “Alright. Thank you, Matt.” </em>
</p><p>Another sloppy, sleepy smile, and Matt nodded his head, barely able to hold it up. “You’re welcome Nancy.” Then he dropped the phone as the call ended, and even though recent nights had left him with a shivering fear of falling asleep, he couldn’t resist its pull now.</p><p>In a blink, he was asleep, Branch snuggled close to his chest and staring at the door like a guard dog.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. All's Well</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Good to know that they wrapped up the mystery in a happy bow, and everyone had a happy ending!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Corpus Christi, Texas<br/>October, 2011</p><p>Matt woke from a deep, dreamless sleep as his stomach growled, and he rolled over onto his other side. Smacking his mouth, tongue dry and lips chapped, he reached out for Branch, not realizing that hours had gone by since the last time he’d been awake to see the dog. When his hands passed through open space rather than brushing against soft fur, Matt opened his eyes and looked around.</p><p>He was alone in the room, and it left a sour feeling in his gut. He glanced towards the mirror, unshattered and intact despite his dream before, but he didn’t like the way that his reflection was looking back at him. So, grabbing the runner from the end of the bed, he hung it over the mirror and fished around in the blankets for his phone again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Nate shoved his hand into a bag of trail mix as he exited a small, shabby building and headed back towards the Firebird parked in the lot not far away. As he lifted his hand to his mouth, head tilted back to catch the trail mix, his phone started ringing in his pocket. So he crammed all the food in, wiped off his hand on his jeans, and pulled out his phone.</p><p>With a huff, he answered, “Good morning, Mr. Narcolepsy.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Matt grumbled and staggered around the motel room. He felt somewhat better after his second extended naptime, but now he was hungry and his sub from earlier just wasn’t going to cut it. “Hey, where are you?”</p><p>“Oh…” Nate glanced back in the direction of the building he’d just left and choked a little on the trail mix he was still trying to swallow. “I just dropped Branch off with Nancy and Steven.”</p><p>
  <em>“You did? I was hoping to see them again before heading out.”</em>
</p><p>Nate shrugged, finally managing to swallow the last of the food in his mouth before he balanced his phone between his shoulder and his ear, fishing for his keys next. “Sorry man, I didn't know. But if it's any consolation, they seemed pretty wiped out. And they both sent you lots of hugs,” he finished with his cheesiest grin.</p><p>Matt chuckled a little into the phone and things went silent for a while.</p><p>Nate worked open the door to the Firebird and tossed the mostly empty bag of trail mix into the passenger seat. “You hungry? I was going to grab something on the way back. Any requests?”</p><p>“Yeah, no more sushi. I think I got some bad fish or something.” Matt frowned. Not to mention that the whole night had ruined him from ever eating sushi again, just in general.</p><p>Nodding, Nate swung himself into the driver’s seat. “Right. I'll see what I can dig up. See you soon.” He hung up, tossed his phone into the cup holder, and took one last glance back at the building he’d just exited.</p><p>The local pound.</p><p>Smirking, Nate started the car and drove away.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Their trailer was small, and so, it wasn’t easy to lose someone inside of it. But after a search of the bedroom - both theirs and their parents - hadn’t yielded any results, Nancy flew across the dirt road to Paris’ house and checked both her trailer and the small garden of fake potted plants before she finally turned back towards her trailer, panting and panicking.</p><p>He couldn’t have disappeared again. Not after everything.</p><p>But then she remembered something, a space in the closet that Steven liked to hide in when they used to play hide-and-go-seek, a place that only he could still fit into. So she rushed back inside, threw open the door to the miniscule closet, and pushed aside winter coats and a box of old cooking books until she revealed Steven, curled up in the tiny space with his hands pressed to either side of his head.</p><p>Sinking to her knees, Nancy gave a choked cry of relief and leaned her head against the door. “You - you scared me!”</p><p>Rather than explaining himself, Steven just stared up at her with wide, wary eyes like a scared puppy.</p><p>Nancy heard his stomach growl and felt herself sag inwardly. “You still hungry?” She watched his face go red with guilt, and it made her smile, if only a little. “Can’t remember a time when you ate so much. Maybe we can convince Paris to share some tea and cookies later.”</p><p>Slowly, Steven pulled his hands away from his ears and used them to pull his knees against his chest. “I think there's something wrong with me, Nance.” And he watched Nancy sigh, her shoulders curling inward. He knew that this - everything he was going through - was exhausting even her.</p><p>They couldn’t keep going on like this.</p><p>Steven groaned a little and pressed a hand against his stomach. “I can't stop eating, my skin feels weird and clammy, and I - I still don't feel like myself,” he pressed his hands against his chest, but everything felt wrong. All wrong. “Like I'm in the wrong body.”</p><p>Rather than speaking, Nancy reached out to comb a little of Steven’s brown hair back down against his head where it stood up in a bunch. It calmed his nervous fidgeting for a bit, but it didn’t make his worries go away like she wished it could.</p><p>“I'm scared,” Steven told her quietly, and his voice shook as he did. “What if I'm never back to normal?”</p><p>Nancy fretted with one of her bedraggled braids again. She’d been braiding it and unbraiding it and braiding it again all morning long, so consumed with worry that she couldn’t stop herself from her usual childish habit. “Hey, that's enough. You've been through something terrible, Steven, you just need time.”</p><p>“I'd wish you'd stop calling me that. I'm not Steven,” he growled and rested his forehead against his knees to avoid looking at her anymore. “I still can't remember a thing that happened!”</p><p>They sat there together on the floor in silence for a while. Nancy didn’t feel like she had anything left in her. She’d been cooking and cleaning and worrying and trying not to worry. Not to mention easing Steven’s fears, taking them on her own shoulders, and even she could only handle so much. But Steven looked up at her suddenly, his hair shifting around his head so that she could see a cobweb that had gotten stuck among the brown waves from hiding in the rarely used closet.</p><p>“Nance, do you think you could-”</p><p>But she knew where he was going with that thought and shook her head. “No.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“No!” What he wanted was dangerous. She'd only ever done it once or twice.</p><p>“Please,” he begged her, edging out of his hiding space and resting his weight onto his knees. “I'm scared, Nance, really scared! Maybe if I remember something, I can figure out what happened and why I feel like this.”</p><p>Nancy shook her head at him wearily. Not only could this hurt one or both of them, but if anyone found out… “Steven, the FBI Agents-”</p><p>“They aren't FBI and we both know it,” Steven said, deadpan and serious. He could see in her eyes that she was weighing their options. They’d tried to get help from other people, and so far, they hadn’t exactly seen any results. Steven softened his eyes, and batted his eyelashes at her, employing a tactic he knew was fool-proof from his memories, even if it was a little devious. “Please?”</p><p>Sighing - she never could resist his puppy eyes - Nancy nodded and motioned Steven forward. He sat dutifully in front of her, let her put a hand on either side of his head and tilt their foreheads together. Nancy paused to take a deep breath. “Are you sure about this?”</p><p>“I trust you,” he assured her, shutting his eyes.</p><p>Nancy smiled and brushed a hand over his hair before shutting her own eyes, but just as she was about to begin, Steven sat back, his heart pounding.</p><p>“Wait! I don't know if I remember how.” He didn’t want to mess it up, especially if it meant that it might get Nancy hurt. “I mean, you know. It wasn't me.”</p><p>But Nancy never lost her sad smile. “It's okay. I'll take care of it. Just relax.”</p><p>Steven nodded, bit down on his bottom lip, and leaned his forehead against hers again. When Nancy closed her eyes, the world melted away from around her. She could no longer feel the heavy wool coat brushing her shoulder or the tickle of Steven’s hair against her forehead or sunlight shining through the window behind her onto her back. She could only hear Steven’s heartbeat, the breath whistling through his lungs.</p><p>“Is it there?” Steven’s voice floated past her, disembodied and weak.</p><p>Nancy tried to focus on the right memory, the one that would show her exactly what had happened to Steven, but everything felt different from when she had done this before, like she was on the wrong radio frequency. “I - I don't know. Just keep breathing.”</p><p>For another moment, she wandered in the darkness before the world around her sparked and ignited with a sudden flash of memory. At first distorted by something like static, she saw, ripping and peeling away, layer after layer of disgusting milky white skin that wreaked and oozed puss. It flickered and vanished as Nancy winced back from it.</p><p>But she couldn’t back down now.</p><p>Steeling herself, Nancy forced herself to focus, and the image became clearer as Nancy wandered towards it. A dark room, compacted earth beneath her bare feet, cool and dusty, a dim light hung overhead and swung back and forth.</p><p>Among the darkness, four shapes stood out, big white, clawfoot tubs, polished to a shine even among this dirty, dingy place full of cobwebs and crawling things. There was a struggle, bodies moving in the shadows, until suddenly a child was dragged forward into the light.</p><p>Steven.</p><p>They pushed him - two adults, a woman and a man - towards one of the tubs where - Nancy gagged. The tub was filled with that same skin and ooze, hair and teeth and jagged bits of bone floating among the disgusting mix, and the two figures forced Steven into the tub, pushed him beneath the surface.</p><p>He fought.</p><p>Nancy’s heart wrenched in her chest as she felt herself screaming but couldn’t hear the sound over Steven’s own strangled, choking cries for help.</p><p>He nearly slipped out of their grasp, tried to flee, but he was pushed under again and this time held down until the struggle ended. For one horrifying moment, Nancy thought that would be the end, but then something even more strange happened. They dragged Steven’s body from the tub and tossed him onto the ground. Then there was silence, a pause.</p><p>And Nancy saw his little chest rise and fall.</p><p>Relief sent her to her knees, and she could only watch as they lifted him from the ground, shivering and pale but breathing, still breathing, and they tossed him into a cage full of more children, all of them crying and cowering back. Their eyes were locked onto the white tubs, and when Nancy looked back towards them, she saw the two adults stirring the one they’d just forced Steven into. They used such care, such tenderness, like stroking a sick child’s feverish forehead.</p><p>And then it moved.</p><p>Something pushed through the surface, a hand, small and white, and-</p><p>Nancy jolted backwards with a terrified shriek. Blood ran heavy from her nose, down her lips, and into her mouth. Her eyes wide and full of tears, she pushed back from Steven until her back hit the stack of boxes, and she curled onto her side, hands pressed over her ears.</p><p>Steven froze, shocked and scared by the way she’d flinched away from him and unsure of what to do. He rose up on his knees and leaned over her but didn’t get close enough to touch as he pleaded, “Nancy! Nancy - Are you okay? Can you hear me?! NANCY!”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>In the parking lot of the Hold ‘Em motel for what would hopefully be the last time, Matt loaded his bags into his Prius. Even though the air had taken a turn towards brisk and breezy, Matt felt oddly hot and had opted out of wearing his usual jacket.</p><p>Nate approached him from behind, looking both nervous and hopeful. “You ready to hit the road?”</p><p>“I guess,” Matt said with a sigh. “We’ve already been here too long.”</p><p>Nate watched as Matt continued to load his things inside, and he could tell from Matt’s body language that there was something wrong. “Hey, uh, how are you feeling?”</p><p>
  <em> Hopeless. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Exhausted. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Terrified of my own reflection. </em>
</p><p>“Fine, I guess.” Matt shut the back door to the Prius and flinched back from the sight of his own face in the glass. “Ready to leave.”</p><p>Nate nodded but didn’t say anything - or move. He was waiting for something, what exactly, Matt didn’t know. He didn’t want to ask either. What Matt wanted was to get in his car and drive for hours without having to talk to anyone, but… he so seldom got what he wanted.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“Nothing. It's just…” Nate rubbed at the back of his hair. “I know I've been a prick lately, like a huge pain in the ass, but you still trusted me.”</p><p>“Trust” was a strong word for it, Matt thought, but didn’t correct him.</p><p>“And that means a lot. I certainly don't deserve it. I was just kind of hoping, you know, we could put all this behind us. Start fresh.” He looked up at Matt with a dopey, little brother smile, and Matt winced at how empty he felt at the sight of it. “I'm still going to be majorly kissing your ass, but I don't know,” Nate went on. “I feel like I've turned over a new leaf in a way.”</p><p>Whether he meant it or not, whether this new leaf lasted longer than whatever bottle of alcohol Nate probably had stashed away in the Firebird - Matt couldn’t feel anything towards his brother in that moment. And that felt worse than anything.</p><p>He really was becoming some kind of monster.</p><p>Matt just nodded. “Just one rule.”</p><p>“Yeah, name it,” Nate said eagerly.</p><p>“Don’t kiss literally any part of me. Ever.”</p><p>Nate blinked once and then laughed. “Fair!” Then he headed for the Firebird, a slight skip in his step. Like all was right with the world again.</p><p>Matt watched him go and opened the door to his car. At least one of them was in a good mood, the one that always mattered, the one everyone always cared about. He shook his head, starting to feel sick again - sick of feeling sorry for himself. And he was about to get into his car when Nate turned back.</p><p>“Hey, it’s Halloween, you know, my favorite holiday!” Nate wiggled his eyebrows with a wide grin. “Maybe we could do something. No haunted houses, though.”</p><p>“Yeah, no haunted houses,” Matt muttered and dropped into the driver’s seat, shutting the door behind him. He sat for a moment, stared down at the dash as the sound of the Firebird’s engine roared somewhere behind him. Aching, he coached himself through the steps to make himself move.</p><p>Start the car, Matthew.</p><p>Buckle up.</p><p>Reach for the wheel.</p><p>Don’t call your wife even though you want to.</p><p>Check the mirror.</p><p>Shift into reverse.</p><p>Drive away.</p><p>Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>He’d convinced himself that playing music made him feel better by the time he heard his phone ringing, but even a mix of his favorite show tunes couldn’t lift his spirits because Stephanie had put the mix together for him, burned it onto a CD as one of his first Christmas presents when they were dating.</p><p>He turned down his music and flipped his phone open without looking at the number. “Hello?”</p><p>
  <em> “A-agent Towers?” </em>
</p><p>“Nancy?” Matt frowned. She sounded worried for some reason. “What’s wrong?”</p><p>Nancy sat on her bed in the trailer, wiping tears from her face, and Steven stood nearby with his shoulders set in determination, his hand grasping Nancy’s tight. She took a deep breath and began to explain, “Agent Towers, Steven - the one with me right now - he's not my little brother. I-I'm certain now.”</p><p>Matt tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The color drained from his face. “Nancy, what do you mean?”</p><p>“He remembered what happened,” Nancy continued calmly and gave Steven’s hand another squeeze. “Well, he remembered what happened to the real Steven. <em> My Steven </em> is still at Gallagher's, in the basement with all the other kids. There were these - these bathtubs of skin and mucus in the basement, and they shoved my brother into one, and then a double of him came out. And it happened to all the other kids, too.” Nancy shut her eyes and focused on the memory of seeing her Steven’s chest still moving, still breathing.</p><p>She knew he was still out there. Alive. Waiting for her to find him.</p><p>“Nancy-” Matt’s mind was racing, trying to keep up with the flood of information, but he shook his head. This wasn’t right. “I talked to you a few hours ago. You told me Steven was fine.”</p><p>
  <em> “What?” </em>
</p><p>“Plus, I know you weren't there. I know you weren't at Gallagher's when Steven went missing, so I'm not sure what to believe and what not to.” It was becoming a theme in his life recently.</p><p>Nancy and Steven glanced at each other in confusion, and slowly, Nancy said, “Agent Towers, you and I haven't spoken since you took Branch back to your motel.”</p><p>Matt frowned. He had too many conflicting stories on his hands and not enough explanations. “But I called you on the phone. And my brother said he dropped off Branch and you were both fine.”</p><p>The more she thought about it, a few things started to piece together in Nancy’s mind, and she stood up. “Matt, how did you know I wasn't at Gallagher's?”</p><p>“We went back to Gallagher’s, and I watched the security camera footage while Nate poked around,” Matt said slowly, shakily. He felt like things were unravelling again, and he checked his eyes in the rear view mirror.</p><p>Normal - at least for the moment.</p><p>Nancy gave Steven’s hand another squeeze. “And all that time, did you ever lose track of your brother?”</p><p>Matt felt his stomach bottom out. “Damnit.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Nancy ended the call and snatched up her denim jacket from where it hung on the bedpost. “We should call the police, the real police, and let them know what's happened. Sure, they haven't listened to me yet, but our fake FBI Agent friends can help with that, right?” She paused when she realized that Steven hadn’t moved from where he was standing. “Steven? What's wrong?”</p><p>He looked scared. He had ever since Nancy had uncovered those memories, but now, he was scratching at his arms again. “Matt said that his partner dropped Branch off hours ago. But he's not here. Where is he?”</p><p>First those monsters had taken her brother, and now they’d done something with her dog. Nancy felt rage swell up in her chest as she popped the collar to her jacket and grabbed Branch’s spare leash.</p><p>“Why don’t we find out?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Prepare for Trouble...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>But what in the world could it mean??</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Corpus Christi, Texas<br/>
October, 2011</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dropping his phone into his lap, Matt leaned on his horn until the Firebird slowed down and let Matt pull ahead to take the lead. He quickly led them off the highway, and Nate realized that Matt was driving in the direction of Gallagher’s again. His gaze hardened, shoulders set, as he prepared himself for a fight.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The parking lot to the haunted house was bursting with people as the sun set on Halloween night, and Matt and Nate snagged two spots near the back of the lot where the gravel met dried, yellow grass. Through his windshield, Nate watched Matt climb from his car, looking flustered and nervous, his breath puffing from his mouth in little clouds. Without taking his eyes off of Matthew, Nate reached over and took the pistol from his glove box, tucking it into the waist of his jeans and pulling his plain black t-shirt down to cover it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he got out and strode over to where Matt was watching the patrons enter through the front doors. If anyone had noticed that Cliff was missing, they seemed to have no suspicions of foul play as that night was the busiest yet. At least Nate had done a good job of that, but what had brought them back here, he wondered. Standing alongside his brother, Nate raised an eyebrow at Matt. “What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nancy just called,” Matt explained in exasperation, and Nate’s hand moved towards the gun before Matt continued, “Steven ran off again, and she seems to think he’s here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate froze, fingertips brushing metal. “Again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, and if we didn't come find him she said she would call the cops and they'd tear this place apart.” Matt swept a hand over his already messy hair and looked back towards the haunted house like it was a ticking time bomb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate shifted from foot to foot. He certainly didn’t want to go back in there. “Well, I covered our tracks pretty well. I don't think they would find anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt huffed and shook his head, more steam rolling through the air between them. “Yeah, but we have to be sure. Especially with John. So just,” he gestured towards the building, “let's just find this kid and get out of dodge, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate sighed unhappily but didn’t argue. He didn’t have much of a choice, his hand falling away from the gun, and he followed Matt to the front door of the haunted house, both of them flashing their fake I.D.’s as they showed themselves past the line and inside. Once they got past all the guests, they both paused at the branching hallways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where do we start?” Nate asked and turned back to Matt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Umm, I'm going to find whoever is in charge,” Matt said, glancing around as people continued to move past. He felt antsy, his palms sweaty. But he tried to iron his thoughts out straight, no more wrinkles, no more surprises. He had to get his little brother back. “You start-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll start down,” Nate muttered and started off down the right hallway before Matt could make his suggestion. Not that it mattered, Matt told himself. Let him go off where he wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt walked as if to go down the left hallway, but he slowed his pace to listen to the sounds of Nate scurrying off before Matt turned instead to go back inside the security office. The room was empty, thankfully, so Matt dropped into the seat in front of the monitor and started clicking through camera feeds looking for "Nate".</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found him, darting through actors and set pieces as if he knew just where he intended to go. For a while, Matt followed his path before Nate suddenly disappeared off one screen and never reappeared on another. Matt hissed and clicked through the feeds, searching anywhere and everywhere, but he didn’t see him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he bolted to his feet to check the last place he’d seen Nate, Matt froze when something else on the monitor caught his eye, and he leaned in just to make sure that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh - crap!”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he opened the door to the basement, Nate was washed in the musky smell of dark, cold places covered in dust and the putrid scent of the dried grime and mucus in the bottom of the aging clawfoot tubs. He shut the door behind himself as he entered and let his eyes adjust to the darkness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each wooden step groaned beneath Nate’s weight as he descended into the basement, and by the light of the single exposed bulb in the room, he saw the iron cages in the corner of the room where the missing children were locked up, each with an IV taped into their arm, the bags hanging from crossbars in the cage and full of the same milky white substance that had once filled the tubs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sleep was the best medicine, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly Nate reached behind himself to draw the gun out of his waistband, and sighing, he checked the clip to make sure that it was full. “I told him, poor Cliffy dear, we shouldn't bother with keeping the kids around.” He cocked his head to the side with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I know how much you love your holiday bonus, but one day they are going to get us killed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate knocked the clip back into place and aimed the gun at Steven first. “At least I was partially right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steven!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate spun around to see Nancy standing at the top of the stairs just before something pounced at his chest and sank sharp teeth into his shooting arm - that mangy dog. As Nate’s back hit the cold dirt floor, Branch shook his head to either side, ripping and tearing the waxy, disgusting flesh from Nate’s arm. But Nate grabbed a hold of the dog’s fur and tore the animal off of himself. Branch hit the corner of one of the cages hard, a sharp cry echoing through the basement, and dropped to the floor in a heap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Panting, Nate staggered to his feet and glared up at Nancy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She saw the same white puss that dripped from his wounded arm, the murderous look in his eyes, but she held her ground. “You’re - you’re not human.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate chuckled at that, glancing down at the missing chunk of his arm as if it were a mere inconvenience. Then he stooped down and grabbed his gun from the floor, never taking his eyes off of the girl. “And you're the little bitch who couldn't keep her mouth closed. You want your brother? Fine. Go get him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gestured towards the cages and took aim at Steven once again. When he did, though, Branch rose from the floor on shaky legs and snapped his teeth at Nate before pouncing again, but Nate sidestepped the animal that time, kicking him away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt appeared over Nancy’s shoulder at the top of the stairs and fired two shots directly into Nate’s chest. Nate - or rather, his clone - staggered back a step before collapsing to his knees and then falling face first into the floor in a puddle of the putrid, white mucus. Everything fell quiet, and after a moment, Nancy rushed down the steps to the iron cells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Steven! Steven, wake up!” She grabbed the bars and fell to her knees beside the place where Steven’s head rested on the ground. “Steven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt followed quickly behind her, checking the cages full of children, but all the bodies inside were small. The real Nate wasn't there. But he swallowed down his panic and inspected the IV’s connected to the children’s arms. Frowning, he glanced down at Nancy. “He won't be waking up until we get the IV out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Coming in behind them, Steven’s clone glanced around the room. He wandered closer to the body on the floor feeling a chill wash over his skin even as he drew his coat tighter around him. One look at the wound on his arm, and he knew. They were just like him - whatever he was. But Steven squinted and leaned closer when he saw the wound start to bubble as his hand had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Branch barked loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Steven didn’t have a moment to react before Nate’s clone was on his feet again, grabbing Steven around the throat and pressing the gun to his head. Branch growled at the monster but wouldn’t attack again, not with Steven in the way. Matt and Nancy turned towards the commotion and froze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Nancy gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt raised his gun again, but he didn’t want to risk firing again with Steven so close. “How?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, you think I'd let you walk around with the bullets that could kill me?” the clone sneered with a wide grin. The holes in his chest had already healed, the bite wound in his arm knitting itself back together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt lifted his hands slowly, stealing short glances down at Steven's fearful face. “Please, just don’t hurt him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still making demands, are you? What do you care?” The clone jostled Steven roughly, and the kid whimpered, reaching for Nancy. “He's just another freak.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt tried to weigh his options, what he might do next, because monster or not, a kid was in trouble, and he wouldn't let Nancy watch her brother get hurt again. But before Matt could make a move, suddenly the clone threw Steven towards them and dashed up the stairs and out of the basement. Nancy flew forward to catch Steven, falling to her knees with him and cradling him against her chest as he sobbed, Branch crowding around them protectively. Matt stormed up the steps after the clone only to have the door slammed in his face. He tried the doorknob, but it was locked from the outside.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>While on the other side, Nate’s clone looked down at his already healing arm and smirked. Then he spotted a crowd of guests moving through the house and joined them, slipping between people and disappearing seamlessly.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Growling, Matt slammed a fist against the door before he checked the clip of his gun. Sure enough, it was loaded with regular bullets, not the silver ones. At some point, the clone must’ve swapped them out, and with as long as Matt was passed out for, it was no wonder it had the time. Then he turned back towards the kids and descended the stairs to check on them. Nancy brushed Steven’s bangs from his face while she checked him over with frantic hands, fluttering like bird wings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m fine,” he gasped between hiccuping breaths. “I’m okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Branch snuffed his nose at his two kids who turned to him and smiled. Steven reached out and pet the dog’s head. “Good boy.” Branch sneezed at the touch but wagged his tail happily before returning to the other Steven’s side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt stood back, giving them their space before he turned his attention back to the other children. They had to find a way to get them all out safely, especially with that monster still running around armed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy crawled back to the cage and inspected the lock. They’d have to find a key somewhere to get it open or something. But that was her little brother in there, and she could almost, almost reach him. Slipping her hands through the bars, she carefully worked the needle out of his arm and brushed her thumb across his cheek. “Steven? Steven, wake up, please!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Realizing that there was little he could do downstairs, and that the key to those cages might be back in the security office somewhere, Matt rushed back up to the door to the basement and started trying to force it open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other Steven crawled over to the cage, and reached through the bars to try to shake his human counterpart’s shoulder. “Come on, wake up Steven!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Branch barked loudly when he saw signs of Steven moving. The poor kid blinked his tired, heavy eyelids and groaned, shifting uncomfortably in the cramped cell. He flinched at the noise of Branch’s thunderous barking in the small basement, but even the smallest movements flooded Nancy's chest with hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's right, Steven that's right!” Nancy tried to help him sit up a little. “Come back, come back to me, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking at the faces crowded around the cage, Steven frowned. “Branch? Nancy?” His eyes wandered over to his clone, and his confusion turned towards fear. “Me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Above them, the door at the top of the stairs finally burst open as Matt drove his shoulder into it with all his weight. He caught himself on the door frame, looked around to see if anyone had seen him, and then peered back down at the kids. Nancy’s eyes moved from Matt to Branch, and she nodded towards the stairs. “Go on, Branch, go get him!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dog bolted up the stairs and out the door past Matthew who blinked down at Nancy. She grinned up at him, and Matt knew that he could leave her to this. She could handle it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go get that bastard,” she told him, and Matt nodded, running to catch up with Branch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Branch! Heel, boy!” Matt cried after him, but it didn’t seem to have much effect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dog charged headlong into a crowd of frightened patrons who screamed at the very sight of Matthew who - as far as he knew - was nowhere near the most terrifying thing inside the building, but he figured that they were already a little jumpy as he edged past them and followed the dog back to the entrance to the haunted house. Branch stopped at the base of the stairs leading up to the second floor and turned back to Matt, whining and yipping nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lead the way, buddy,” Matt told Branch, and the two of them started up the stairs together towards the haunted hospital. In the back of his mind, Matt knew that this place was going to end up as a scene on his never-ending list of nightmares for sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he entered the main area where none of the guests had made it yet, Matt locked the door behind him just to make sure they wouldn’t have any unwanted visitors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t miss the irony as he strode through the maze of plastic, bloody tarps, actors silhouetted by strobe lights reaching out for him as he screamed and dodged and flinched back from the actors - just like all those years ago. But Matt, as then, was focused on one thing, and that was getting his kid brother back. Branch cut the way in front of him, and Matt followed close behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment he reached the end of the maze and parted the plastic to move on to the next section of the floor, someone crashed into him, spinning him around, and stealing the gun from his hand with one violent twist. In the darkness and the confusion as the soundtracks played eerily and fog machines hissed on either side of him, Matt immediately lost his attacker before he could retrieve his weapon, and he was once again alone in the middle of the haunted house. Even Branch had vanished, no doubt chasing after his attacker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching instead for the silver knife he kept with him at all times lately - a little insurance policy - Matt drew it and staggered on. Actors in bloody hospital garbs jumped out at him from the shadows, and Matt flinched bodily. It took all he had not to lash out with the knife. But they were just actors. And somewhere in the building, there was a real monster he needed to focus on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the next room, Matt found Branch again. The dog was circling what appeared to be an electric chair where a dummy sat bound with leather straps to the wooden seat, a metal helmet affixed to their head and a burlap bag over their face. At first, Matt thought nothing of it. The whole room was full of dummies attached to torture devices and other unfriendly methods of execution, but when Branch barked at the dummy, Matt took a closer look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of the dummy’s body was obscured by burlap, but Branch licked at one of the pale hands. Inspecting more closely, Matt took the hand, but it was so cold and lifeless. He was sure it couldn’t be real until he saw a familiar braided, friendship bracelet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And his heart jumped into his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nate!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt tore the helmet and the burlap hood away to find his little brother’s face beneath it, cold and pale, duct tape over his mouth, and Matt’s whole world crashed down around him. Nate had been there, all alone, all that time, with those monsters, </span>
  <em>
    <span>on display</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Whatever they intended to use him for, he’d been a prop to them, little more than another lifeless decoration, and Matt burned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moved aside the burlap over Nate’s chest first and checked the black t-shirt underneath for any signs of blood or injuries. Then, when he didn’t find anything that meant immediate danger, Matt frantically checked for a pulse, and gasped in relief when he found it. But still, it was far too thready for his liking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed to get Nate out of there, get him somewhere safe, and maybe tear the thing apart that had stolen his brother’s face and walked around in his skin. And Matt hadn't noticed, not once. He bit down hard on his bottom lip as he brushed a hand over the back of Nate's hand and cursed himself a hundred times for not seeing it sooner. But looking closer at Nate, Matt found the IV needle in the crook of Nate’s arm and the bag of the same gross liquid hidden behind the chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damnit. Hey, come on, Nate, come on. Come back to me, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Delicately removing the IV, pulling the tape off of Nate’s mouth - and spotting what might have been fading traces of lipstick underneath - Matt rubbed his brother’s arms to get some warmth back into them, get the blood flowing again. Nate’s lips were a shade blue, and he was cold, so cold. Matt pressed a hand to the side of Nate’s face, begging, “Please, kiddo, please, wake up for me. I'm so sorry I left you here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Branch whined and nuzzled the palm of Nate’s hand, Matt thought he saw movement. Nate’s eyes shifted back and forth behind his eyelids, and finally, his lips parted like he was trying to say something. Then he began to strain against the thick, leather straps, his sore muscles convulsing in a panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt squeezed the back of Nate’s neck and kept his other hand on Nate’s arm in an attempt to soothe him. “Take it easy, little brother, take it easy. I got you.” Matt gave Nate a gentle shake, straining to keep himself from immediately tearing away the straps and freeing him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Nate's eyes edged open, unfocused and bleary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nate! Nate, look at me, kiddo,” Matt muttered quickly, but when Nate’s eyes started to slip closed again, he gave him another gentle shake. “Hey, come on, up and at 'em. I got you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blinking, Nate was obviously struggling to get his eyes to focus on his brother’s face. “M-Matt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah, hold on, I’ll get you out of those,” Matt said and started getting to work on unbuckling the straps that were fixed around Nate’s wrists and ankles. As he did, Branch continued licking at Nate’s hand and whining nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R’llo’,” Nate mumbled unintelligibly, his head listing to the side as he peered down at the dog through dark eyelashes. He said it again, and Matt looked up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” But as Matt met his eyes, he could tell that Nate was still deeply disoriented. It was no use. He just had to focus on getting him out of there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate used his one free hand to reach forward and clumsily brush the top of Branch’s head, saying again, “R’llo, r’ll o’er. R-” His words were cut off sharply by a deep-chested, dry cough, and his whole body curled in on itself with the force of it. He gasped to regain his breath, fingernails digging into the wooden arms of the chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt reached up to steady him once he worked the straps around Nate’s ankles free. “Easy, easy, deep breaths.” He could’ve sworn his own heart didn’t beat until Nate finally sucked in a full breath, his lips returning to their usual color as Nate slumped back in the electric chair. Matt blinked, trying for a smile and probably failing miserably. “Roll over? Is that what you were trying to say? You can still only focus on the dog, even after all this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Nate blinked at him slowly, looking around like he didn’t remember where he was. Maybe he didn’t. He still looked out of it, way out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt was just about to start on the last strap around Nate’s wrist when, from the other room, Nancy’s voice called out, “Branch? Branch!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he heard his name, Branch bolted in the direction of the voice, but Matt had a bad feeling. He tried to grab for the dog as he raced past. “Branch, no!” But it was no use. As the dog disappeared around the corner into the next room, a gunshot sent both brothers flinching back, and Branch gave a pained shriek. Nate struggled to get to his feet, held down by the last strap on his wrist, but fully awake then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights in the room went up then, and the other Nate appeared in the doorway, smirking, aiming what Matt guessed was his own pistol at the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heya, bro!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt straightened, raising his hands and stepping forward to shield Nate. “Heya, Vic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clone’s snide grin faltered just a little. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh please,” Matt scoffed, trying to buy some time for Nate to get himself free. “You may have snagged the good looking one, but you should have gotten the one with the brains if you wanted to get away with this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind him, Nate paused from clumsily fiddling with the last strap and frowned up at his brother before shrugging. Yeah, that was pretty fair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clone just cackled, head thrown to one side, a deranged look in his eyes and dark bangs hanging over his face. “The only thing I'm trying to ‘get away’ with - or rather </span>
  <em>
    <span>from </span>
  </em>
  <span>- is my control freak of a brother!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate’s clone gestured towards Matt, almost like he was taking a bow. “Thanks for the help with that, by the way, ending his ass.” He winked. “You can be useful on a hunt after all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what, you and Cliff, huh? Skinwalkers, having a lot of little skinwalker babies?” Matt guessed, spinning the silver knife through his fingers. Behind him, Nate gagged visibly at the thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Snatch up a kid so Junior can steal their face and their memories, and then what? High tail it out of town with your new snacks in tow?” Matt snapped his fingers and gestured around. “Happy Meal and a prize, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, we don't eat the kids,” the clone explained with a sneer, and Nate couldn’t help his hidden smirk. No one could get a monster to monologue like Matt. “Doesn't settle well with everything else we've got going on in here. But they do fetch a pretty nice price in the underground.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt spread his arms out to either side, shoulders raised. “Then why the replacements? Just to get away with your haul unnoticed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To expand our family!” The clone Nate mimicked Matt’s movement, arms spread out like he was ready for a hug, and it made Matt scowl and drop the stance. “Cliff and I - well, guess it's just me now - were what you call ‘one of a kind.’ And by that, I mean ‘first of our kind.’ Who better to get to raise our next generation than some distraught parents who would give anything to have little Jack and Jill come running home again? Our little cuckoo in the nest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He batted his thick eyelashes at Matt and folded his hands together sweetly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt’s hands dropped to his sides as realization hit him like a truck - bug meet windshield. “This is all a big repopulation scheme. Trying to spread your species through host families!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate, the real one, gasped. “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>an alien movie!” He looked up at Matt who turned partially to look back at him. “Called it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes, the clone raised the gun and fired at them. Nate yanked Matt to the ground before he slipped the knife from his brother's hand and threw it at the clone. He had to stop firing to dodge out of the way of the blade, and Nate reacted first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped over his brother and threw himself at the clone, which was, honestly, probably going to be one more layer on the already-towering cake of trauma. The clone kneed him hard in his gut, and Nate went down, taking his double with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nate!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt got to his feet as they struggled on the floor. Nate spotted his own gun stuffed into the waistband of the monster’s jeans, and he grabbed for it. The moment he did, though, the clone scrambled back and swiped Matt’s gun up off the floor, and they stood in tandem, aiming the guns at each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone froze, the two Nates breathing heavily as they eyed one another. Neither one wanted to make the first move. Then they both looked towards Matt at once, and Matt raised his hands slowly, glancing back and forth between them - both dressed in a black t-shirt and jeans, both with their dark hair tousled and breathing heavily, and looking exactly the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt sighed. “Oh, crap.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. ... And Make It Double</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>FINALLY, the boys get to the "comfort" part of the "hurt/comfort" trope we all know and love so much.</p><p>Assuming they survive.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Corpus Christi, Texas<br/>
October, 2011</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A single bead of sweat dripped down the side of Matt’s face. The air in the room was dry and cold as ice. The scent and taste of blood stained every breath and the tip of his tongue. He was aware, though vaguely, of the activity just beyond the walls, the people outside screaming and running from the monsters that prowled the halls. But Matt only swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at his brother’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he looked to the other Nate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them moved a muscle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, this is fun,” the one on the left said with a mild chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up,” the other snapped and swept his bangs back from his face. “You kidnapped me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Left Nate scoffed. “Please, the only place I've ever seen you before is in my nightmares, pal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? Scared of the monster inside?” Right Nate asked with a sarcastic dance of his thick eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, both of you shut it!” Matt demanded, raising one hand to the side of his head. Beyond the walls of the room they stood in, he could hear the screams of the guests over the pounding in his head. “This place is still filled with people just beyond these walls. So put the guns down. Both of you. Slowly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glaring at him very annoyed and insulted - very Nately - each one stooped down and placed their gun on the floor at their feet. As they straightened again, the one on the right kicked his over to Matt, saying, “Here, now shoot this ugly SOB, would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt scooped up the gun without taking his eyes off of both of them, and as he lifted it, he resisted the urge to take aim. He cut his eyes towards the one on the left, the gun still at his feet. “And you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Left Nate smirked. “I think I'll keep mine close by, thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, you don't trust your brother?” the other asked accusingly and glanced back towards Matt. This Nate was wide-eyed but calm, and he looked towards his brother with trust in his eyes. He knew Matt would make the right decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the one on the left seemed nervous, jumpy, sweat glistening on his forehead as he refused to answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The one on the right smirked at his counterpart. “Alright, so maybe Matt's not perfect. Maybe he's a little obsessive, and maybe we can't always trust him, either, what with a killer running around in his head. But he came for me. And he won't stop coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a pause before the Nate on the left wrinkled his nose. “... did you just quote Smash Mouth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt knew that he was definitely going to be sick, glancing back and forth between the two of them so quickly that his head was starting to spin. “Alight, enough!” He felt at either side of his waist and then started searching the floor around him. “Look, I'll just find my silver knife, and we'll be done with this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“<em>That’s</em> your plan?” Left Nate scoffed, hands shaking and feet shuffling backwards a step or two. "Cut us both open and see which one bleeds red?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you both didn’t dress like you worked at the local Hot Topic,” Matt growled, gesturing towards their matching black v-necks and dark skinny jeans, “this might be a little easier!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he was Nate’s big brother - Matt thought to himself - what did it say about him that he couldn’t even tell his brother apart from a stupid clone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly the Nate on the left reached down and scooped up the weapon at his feet, aiming it at the other Nate who raised both hands on either side of his body and scrambled back until he hit one of the prop torture devices. “Whoa! Whoa!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Put it down!” Matt shouted, aiming his gun at the one on the left. “Put it down now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” he shouted, never taking his eyes off of the other Nate. “No, I'm not going to risk this monster getting away again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took everything in Matt not to immediately fire. “Put it down! I'm going to figure this out-!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the Left Nate cocked his gun, so Matt did the same. The Nate on the right gulped and glanced towards Matt, pleading with his eyes for him to shoot the other before it was too late. But Matt wasn’t sure - he couldn’t be sure!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen to me! I don't want to shoot either of you! But I can't let you hurt each other until I know which one of you is real!” Even as he said it, Matt knew it was no use, but he had to try, before his Nate ended up dead. Whichever one of these he was, and again, Matt couldn't help but feel he was some kind of monster for not immediately knowing. “Just - just let me find my knife, and we can figure this out!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the Nate with the gun wouldn’t put it down, wouldn’t take his eyes off the other. And Matt’s mind went into overdrive, reading every little twitch of the hands, change of expression. He was sweating, shaking, terrified, and maybe that meant he was the clone and he knew that if Matt found the knife, he’d be outed. He wouldn’t have another chance to get away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But maybe it meant something else, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And in that moment, Matt realized what his choice would be. He aimed his gun at the one on the right - smiling and trusting and pleading with his brother to make the right choice - and squeezed the trigger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only, something was wrong. When Matt tried to move his hand, it froze. His whole body froze into place as something cold and dark and menacing grabbed for control, and Matt knew - he knew it was Afton.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart climbed its way up into Matt’s throat, for fear that Afton would turn the gun on the real Nate, but instead, Matt didn’t move, not a single muscle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole room stalled in confusion, and before anyone could so much as twitch, they heard a loud, angry bark before Branch charged into the room and threw himself at the clone on the right. The clone dodged the animal, pulled the silver knife from behind his back, and threw it at Nate before fleeing from Branch towards the only window in the room that wasn’t covered in blackout paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt felt the icy hands release him, and he fell forward onto his knees as fresh air filled his lungs again. He turned to look just as Branch cornered the clone against the window, barking and snarling and tearing at waxy flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Branch! Down!” Nate shouted, his gun still aimed at the clone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as the dog moved out of the way, Nate unloaded his clip in the direction of the monster. Three of the silver bullets hit the clone in the chest while the rest exploded the window behind him, and stumbling back from the force of being shot, the clone tipped over and fell through the window down onto the ground below with a sickening thud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, all was calm, their ears ringing from the shots, and then Nancy and Steven came rushing in through the open doorway and followed Matt to the window to peer down at the body on the ground far below them. It didn’t move. Vic was dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trick or treat to you, too,” Matt muttered bitterly down at it before turning back to the kids. “Hey, you two alright? Everyone okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nancy held up a ring of keys. “Found these hidden in the security office, and I think they go to the cages in the basement, but we came looking for you after we heard the gunshot.” Nancy looked around just as Branch limped towards them, and she knelt down to meet him, brushing broken glass from his fur and seeing the blood. “He’s hurt!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt knelt down beside her as Steven’s clone petted Branch’s head gently, but as he inspected the wound, Matt realized it didn't seem too serious. “Looks like he’s just been grazed on his shoulder here. We’ll take him by the vet just in case, but he should be okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Nancy said with a tearful laugh, ruffling Branch’s fur and taking Steven’s hand again. “We’re all going to be okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt smiled at them and handed Nancy his phone. “Here, call the police. I’m sure someone has already if they heard that gunshot, but they might not know it wasn’t a special effect.” Nancy nodded and started dialing 911 as Matt turned back towards Nate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brother leaned heavily on a stretching rack, his face pale and still covered in sweat. Matt smiled wryly, guilt heavy in the pit of his stomach, before he drew closer and muttered, “You look terrible. Come on, let's get you home, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate swallowed thickly, nodded his head, and tried to take a step towards Matt, but his knees gave out. With a gasp, Matt surged forward to catch him, but as he did, his hand touched something wet. He pulled back, watched as Nate pulled his hands away from his abdomen, and gasped at the sticky, red blood covering Nate’s fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Crap!” The silver knife. “Crap! Nate - Nate!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing the blood, Nate choked, “Happy Halloween,” before he fell like a dead weight, the whole world going dark around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt dropped to his knees with Nate in his arms. He grabbed desperately at the back of Nate’s shirt in an attempt to shake him out of it, anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nate! Nate!”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he wasn’t used to that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he figured that being dead would at least mean not hurting anymore, so to find out that the afterlife felt just as crappy as everything else really sucked. Nate groaned and felt someone grab his hand. There was a weight beside him on the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait, he was in a bed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes blinked open slowly, sluggishly, and through the haze, a face appeared, round and sweet and smiling. Nate frowned up at her, and his mouth opened to form her name. Only she spoke first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! Good morning, sleepyhead,” Rosanna giggled and brushed some of her long, loose curls back over her shoulder. Nate struggled for words to ask what was going on, but it all seemed to get tangled up somewhere between his brain and his mouth. And as if she sensed the struggle, Ro smoothed a hand over his hair. “Shh-shh, no talking. Just take it easy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reached somewhere past what he could see and pressed a glass of water into his hand, and he took a few sips of that through a straw before his curiosity overcame him. He pushed the cup away, a frown still wrinkling up his face as Ro asked, “What is it, sweety?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing - just,” the words came broken and slow, “didn’t think I’d end up in Heaven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That actually made Ro laugh, and she gave his hand another tight squeeze. “You aren't going to Heaven, sweety, not just yet. Afraid I won't let you.” She brushed at his hair again, and a soft, warm light fell across Nate’s cheek, his eyes slipping closed at the comforting sensation it brought. “You get some sleep. You've got a lot of people who are real worried about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate tried to nod his head, but as he did, the whole world swayed around him. And as he went under again, he swore that the sunlight behind her made Rosanna glow.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, come on, punk. Up and at ‘em.” Matt ruffled Nate’s greasy, tangled hair a bit and watched as his brother shifted beneath the tangled sheets. His cheeks were still piqued with color, the back of his neck and his temples wet with sweat, the fever burning despite all Matt's and Ro’s best efforts to ease it with lots of rags soaked in cold water and what little medicine they could get Nate to swallow in the few moments he’d been awake.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>“Nate?” Matt didn’t want to shake him awake, but it had been so long since his little brother had eaten. And if they waited much longer, Matt would be forced to take him to a hospital, and after everything that had happened... He brushed back the damp hair clinging to Nate's forehead. “Come on, kiddo. I really need you to sit up.”</span>
</p><p>
   <span>But Nate only made a groaning noise and swiped a hand towards Matt, which Matthew caught and tried to tug Nate up into a sitting position. “Please, Nate, please, I don’t want to take you to a hospital, and you don’t want to go to a hospital - I know you don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
   <span>Matt wasn’t sure how much Nate could understand through the fever, but the word “hospital” at least got him to cooperate enough to edge up and lean against the wall at the head of the bed, among the tossed pillows. His eyes were stilled screwed shut, a thin sigh escaping his lips, but a little flutter of relief made its way through Matt’s chest. He quickly reached for the Gatorade on the bedside table. “Drink first, okay?” He watched Nate’s face as he put the bottle into his brother’s hand and practically helped him lift it all the way to his dried and cracked lips.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>The moment Nate started to drink, he tipped the bottle up like he’d guzzle the whole thing, like he hadn’t had a drink in a week. And Matt had to pull it back to keep Nate from choking. “Hey, hey, a little at a time, okay?” he warned and watched Nate’s eyes open slowly, searching Matt’s face. “Just take it easy,” Matt said under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>Nate nodded and started sipping the Gatorade then, and again, that relief fluttered its wings inside Matt’s chest. Next, he reached into a box of peanut butter crackers and pulled out a small plastic package of them, tearing it open and passing one to Nate who took it and nibbled on it between sips.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>They went on that way until they’d worked most of the way through the package of crackers and Matt felt so many words and apologies and questions welling up inside him he thought he was going to burst. Nate, on the other hand, didn’t speak a word, only focused very intently on the food and drink in his hands. Matt, painfully aware of his brother’s silence, cleared his throat after a while.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>“Nate, I need you to tell me you’re okay,” Matt said slowly, trying to catch his brother’s gaze again. He knew from experience that certain things - certain traumatic things - could make Nate go silent for hours if not an entire day. When they were kids, he’d just thought Nate was ignoring him because he was mad, but as they’d gotten older, Matt had realized that it wasn’t a matter of Nate not wanting to speak.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>Sometimes he just couldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>“I need to hear you say it,” Matt urged and crumpled up the plastic wrapper in his hands as Nate took the last of the crackers. When Nate still wouldn’t look at him, Matt put a hand on his arm. “Nate, please. Two words is all I need, and then you can ignore me for the rest of our lives if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
   <span>Finally, after another swallow of Gatorade, Nate whispered towards his lap, “’m okay.” But the more he thought about his words, the more confused Nate seemed to be. After a moment, he placed a hand over his abdomen, pressing down and feeling around like he was searching for… “Wha…?” He made a face, like the words were fighting him. “The blood-”</span>
</p><p>
   <span>“Oh,” Matt said, eyes wide as he realized. “It wasn’t what you thought. There was fake blood everywhere in that place. You must’ve gotten it on your hands and scared yourself so bad you fainted.” Matt ruffled Nate’s hair again, smiling softly. “Of course, the fact that you’d been in a monster-induced coma for a few days probably didn’t do you any good either.” He drew back, that guilt shifted, pointed and cold, in his chest again.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>Nate nodded as he slowly processed what he’d been told, then glanced up at Matt’s eyes like he was checking them, but his own were still blurry from the fever. So lastly, Matt passed him some medicine. “Here, this’ll help with the fever hopefully.”</span>
</p><p>
   <span>After a moment of staring down at the white pills like they were completely foreign to him, Nate popped them into his mouth and washed them down with the last of the Gatorade. He struggled to swallow before finally collapsing back against the wall with a huff.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>“Okay,” Matt conceded with another shaky smile, “you can go back to sleep now. Here.” He put an arm around Nate and helped him back beneath the covers, laying his head down gently against a fresh pillow, cool to the touch of Nate’s burning cheek. A few moments of silence passed before Matt assumed that Nate had drifted off again, so he got up to go.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>But just as he reached the door, he heard Nate shift in bed. He turned to see Nate had rolled over to face him, eyes open and confused, hair sticking out in every direction, and he didn’t say a word. But Matt knew. So he went back to the bed, crawled in beside Nate, and leaned back against the wall. “Alright, I’ll stay.”</span>
</p><p>
   <span>Nate put his head down on the pillow again with a contented sigh, and as Matt rested a hand over Nate's hair, listened to his breathing slow down and even out, he felt his own eyes slip closed, his muscles relax. And before he could catch himself, they both fell asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door to Nate’s room swung open, and Nate, drifting along on the surface of being awake, could hear soft laughter and the sound of gentle panting. Suddenly something sprung up onto the bed with him, and the next thing he knew, his face was covered in sloppy, wet puppy kisses as a very excited Branch greeted his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Branch, you heel!” Nancy commanded somewhere among the blur of fur and dog drool. Not that Nate was complaining. “Heel! Down!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt woke with a jolt on the bed next to Nate and glanced over at the clock, instantly frustrated with himself. How long had he been asleep there? His stomach sank as he finally caught sight of the digital clock. They’d been out for a few hours, and he’d promised to come with Ro to pick up the kids.</span>
</p><p>
   <span>As Nancy finally pulled the excitable dog off of Nate and onto the floor again, and no longer under the assault of Branch’s happiness, Nate wiped his hands over his face and tried to push himself into a sitting position. He was stiff, but overall, not the worst shape he’d been in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing softly despite his frustration, Matt pushed his hair back from his eyes, and Nate realized - with no small amount of surprise - that he'd slept there, as he asked Nate, “You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Nate answered honestly, feeling that his mind was clearer than it had been the last time he'd woken up. Evening light shone in through the window of the motel room and made everything soft and a little fuzzy, but a nice kind of fuzzy. Not the dull heat and ache of fever. “Anybody get the license plate of that sandman who hit me? I feel like I've been asleep a week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You kind of have been,” Matt said, shoulders curling forward a bit as he sat up a little straighter. He reached down to pet Branch’s head when the dog placed it gingerly in Matt’s lap - as if he could sense Matt’s mood. “At least on and off for a couple days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He met Nate’s eyes again, and Nate could see the mixture of exhaustion and hope there - the bittersweet relief that Nate was awake, really awake again after so long. But also that sense of worry that he might be pushed away again, because they hadn’t exactly left things on good terms. And Nate had no idea what his brother had been through before he found Nate again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It made his gut twist up tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How bad was it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt sighed and played absent-mindedly with the front of his hair, the gentle waves a little tangled from constant worrying. “Lots of an anesthetic-poison, lots of withdrawal, and not a lot of anything else.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “What do you remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me,” Nate answered like it left a bad taste in his mouth. “I was an asshole. And then I shot myself.” His head tilted. “I quoted Smash Mouth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It got Matt to laugh, which was a relief to both of them, and Matt patted his brother’s knee, though maybe with a little more hesitation than he would normally use. “You sure did, bud.” With a smirk, Matt added, "And then you fainted. Again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>faint,” Nate protested, pointing a finger at his brother’s nose. “I do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>faint.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You faint like every other week!” Matt giggled, no longer trying to suppress his scattered amusement because it was such a better alternative to the worry and hopelessness of the previous days watching his brother burn with fever and toss with nightmares through the withdrawals from the monster’s poison, which had only replaced the alcohol in his bloodstream, it seemed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was good to have him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate opened his mouth to argue with his brother when he noticed the kids sitting at the foot of the bed: Nancy, Steven, and… another Steven. Nate squinted at them, back and forth between the two. “Since when were there two of you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only sent Matt into another tizzy of high-pitched, frenetic laughter, and the kids only joined in. Even Branch barked a few times up at them, like he wanted to join in on the fun. And Nate just looked around at each of their faces, his jaw working up and down as he tried to make sense of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on here?” he asked indignantly, but it only made everyone laugh harder. One of the Steven’s giggled so hard that he fell off the end of the bed. Branch placed his front paws on the side of the bed and barked at Nate, like he was laughing along, too. And Nate huffed, shooting the dog a glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And here I thought you were on </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>side, you little traitor.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Heal, Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A very long but very important chapter.</p><p>What, y'all thought this season was just going to have one arc?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Corpus Christi, Texas<br/>November, 2011</p><p>Three cars - the Firebird, Matt’s Prius, and a cherry red Jeep - were parked near the beach late that cold, autumn afternoon. The sun was setting earlier those days, and the sky was already orange, the water reflecting it in darker, shifting tones as the waves lapped at the seaweed covered sand. A dog ran up and down the beach while two siblings, a girl and her younger brother, splashed each other, up to their knees in the water.</p><p>Nate sat at an old, wooden picnic table with a young boy and watched the gulls spin overhead.</p><p>“It’s not as scary as it looks,” Nate murmured and gathered up the remnants of their fast food meal before those seagulls got too brave.</p><p>The kid turned to look up at him, still scratching white marks into his arms. “It’s just… big, you know?” His gaze snapped back to the horizon that seemed to stretch on and on and never end. Somewhere beyond all that water was more land, somewhere, but he couldn’t imagine anything that far away. “It’s so bright and loud. Guess I’m just not used to it.”</p><p>“Kid, this is your first time at the beach,” Nate smiled, fondly remembering the first time he and Matt had visited the beach together. “A lot of people will go their entire lives without ever seeing something like this, even once. You're only a week old and look where you already are.”</p><p>Flashing him a rueful smile, the boy let his gaze wander from the horizon to where Matt and Rosanna stood together farther down the beach. They’d been talking for a while and would cast a weighted gaze in the direction of the picnic table from time to time. Nate could practically read the kid’s mind.</p><p>“Hey, Ro is gonna take good care of you. I know she's been working like nuts while I was KO'ed to find all the other kids places to go, and she'll do the same for you.” Nate wrapped his arms around himself, wearing his old black hoodie from when he was a kid, the worn out fabric stretching past his wrists to cover his hands. “You don't have to be scared.”</p><p>“But I am!” the boy insisted, his eyes hidden behind brown hair flopped around in the breeze. “I know I can't stay here. I-I know they can't take care of me... but this all I’ve - whoever I am - has ever known.” His eyes dropped to the sand. He wasn’t Steven, he knew that much, but, what did that leave him with?</p><p>Memories that weren’t his own. Ghosts of people he didn’t really know - Nate could relate.</p><p>The boy crossed his arms over his knees and hid half his face, still peering towards that horizon. “Why can't I just have a normal life? Why'd I have to be born a freak, I didn't ask for this!”</p><p>Nate drew his hood over his head and bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from answering too quickly - from telling the kid he wasn’t a freak. Because - there were freaks in the world. Nate knew that better than anybody, and lying to himself, or having others lie to him, that had never gotten him anywhere. And it was about time he accepted the truth, whether he liked it or not.</p><p>“I don't know. I ask myself that same question every day when I wake up.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Haven't gotten an answer yet, by the way. I'll let you know when I do.”</p><p>At that, the kid cracked a smile, partially hidden behind his arms, but Nate could see it in his eyes. Nate nudged his shoulder. “Listen.” Nate waited until the kid looked up at him, and then told him, “Sometimes, some days, it sucks. Feels like the world's your own special kind of hell. Just when you think it can’t get any darker out there, it does.”</p><p>Nate glanced past the kid to his brother and swallowed the lump in his throat. “But kids like us… Sometimes the most we can do is focus on getting through the day. Find something - or someone - we can hold onto and just wait it out until the sun comes up again, you know?” He looked back down at the boy beside him and found the kid actually smiling.</p><p>“I don’t think you’re very good at this.”</p><p>“Well,” Nate smirked, “add it to the list.”</p><p>They looked up as Matt and Ro approached the table, and Nate noticed the kid shrink back just an inch as Ro curled her hair behind one ear and smiled down at him. Matt gestured towards her with one hand, a half-smile tugging at his mouth. “Hey kiddo, this is Rosanna Pansino. She's going to be the one helping you out.”</p><p>Ro wore a pure white pantsuit, gold earrings dangling on either side of her sweet face as she stooped down a bit and took the kid’s hands in her own. “It’s a wonderful pleasure to meet you, sweety, but you can call me Ro.” She tilted her head to the side a bit, her hair tumbling over one shoulder and dazzling the boy’s eyes a little. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”</p><p>“I’ve heard about you, too,” he said in the same hushed tone one might use in the presence of royalty. “You really found homes for all those other kids?”</p><p>Ro eased herself to sit next to him with a gentle smile and plenty of grace. After everything Matt just told her about what they’d been through, she didn’t mind being extra careful not to spook the poor kid. “I had a little help, but yes, those that I had to. And they're going to great homes.” Softening at the sight of his worried, crinkled eyes, Ro covered his hand with her own. “I know you've been through a lot already, and you must be terrified.”</p><p>She took a deep breath, watching his little eyes dart away from hers. “But I want you to know that it's okay to be feeling all of that. And please trust me when I say I'm going to take the best care of you that I possibly can, okay?”</p><p>He smiled down at his shoes and nodded. Ro patted his hand with a brightening smile before she glanced up at the other two boys. “I'm going to talk to these knuckleheads here for a minute, alright? Why don't you go explore the beach a little? We’ll be right here.”</p><p>Ducking his head, the kid hopped down from the bench and scampered off towards the others down by the water. Ro watched him for a few moments, tears welling in her eyes.</p><p>Then with a sigh, she turned back to the boys. “I just can't leave you two for five minutes, can I, before you're finding orphaned children and discovering a new monster species?”</p><p>When Nate only smirked wearily and shrugged in reply, Ro threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, both of you!” Nate was still a bit sore, and the impact of Ro's hug reverberated through his aching muscles. But it still felt nice, having her around again after so long.</p><p>“Yeah, uh, we're still not sure what they were - or <em> are, </em> in this case,” Matt said from where he sat cross-legged on top of the picnic table.</p><p>When Ro finally released him, Nate drained the last of his soda, his straw making a loud slurping sound before he burped and offered, “Bennells.”</p><p>Both Ro and Matt blinked at him, waiting for Nate to explain.</p><p>“Bennells,” he repeated as if that explained anything. “Hey, if we discovered a new species, then we get to name them, right? I vote ‘Bennells’.”</p><p>Matt scoffed, as he suddenly realized. “Like the main character from <em> Invasion of the Body-Snatchers </em>?”</p><p>“Played by Donald Sutherland,” Nate added excitedly, and Ro just shook her head in disdain at the two of them.</p><p>“So these... Bennells,” Ro began, trying to keep them on topic, “they were trying to spread their species, right? That's what the one you two met said before you threw it out a window.”</p><p>“Hey, I <em> shot </em>it out a window,” Nate corrected her with a grin, maybe a bit too proud of himself under the circumstances. “And it looked awesome.”</p><p>Matt sighed, because while Nate might think the whole thing was cool, there was just one little problem. “Yeah, and its dead body in the morgue? Not so much. These things are all goop, like primordial ooze stripped around some kind of a cartilage skeleton with hair on their heads. Not that the official death report will be saying any of that, since the ‘FBI’ had it heavily redacted.” They were officially part of the X-Files now, which Matt had to admit, filled him with a little pride.</p><p>“But I’m still dead, right?” Nate asked, glancing between the two of them.</p><p>Matt snorted. “‘Multiple firearm shots to the chest and a fall out a three story window,’” he quoted from the article that had run in the local news. “You’re dead alright.”</p><p>Nate nodded to himself solemnly, and after a moment, shrugged his shoulders. “Could be lamer ways to go, I guess.”</p><p>“And what are you going to do about that?” Ro asked, placing her hands on her cheeks as she tried to wrap her mind around the repercussions of this recent development. “Being dead, I mean.”</p><p>Nate’s eyes widened. “I should probably call Shady.”</p><p>Ro turned to look up at Matt who had put his head in his hands, staring out towards Steven playing keep-away from the water with the others while Branch barked and chased them. “Do you think, and this may not work out, but do you think there's a chance of John getting off your backs?”</p><p>Both boys blanched a little at the mention of John Smith.</p><p>Nate twisted hard at his friendship bracelet. “If we let him think I’m dead?” Ro nodded, but Nate couldn’t even imagine that. How would his dad react to that of all things? “I don't think Dad will track a dead man. Even if he eventually realizes it wasn’t me, maybe it’ll at least buy us a little time… And there’s always the other reason.”</p><p>Ro raised her eyebrows questioningly at the two of them. “Other reason?”</p><p>“When we were kids,” Nate began to explain, “Matt and I had a run-in with Gallagher’s where we met a kid that claimed his brother hadn’t been the same since he came to the haunted house. Then later we see that same kid, but he’s smiling and weird, almost zombified, basically fits the description of everything that’s happened here, right?”</p><p>Ro nodded slowly.</p><p>“But it wasn’t.” Matt frowned. “Cliff didn't take charge of <em> Gallagher’s </em> until 2003, even though him and Vic had both claimed it the ‘family business’ and had been in the family for ‘generations.’” He shrugged his shoulders. “Vic said that she and Cliff were the first of their kind, so it couldn’t have been Bennells back in ‘03.”</p><p>“Besides the pattern has changed,” Matt went on, ticking things off on his fingers as he spoke. “Multiple children in each town, usually two at a time, later returned within a week of their disappearance, no memory of what happened to them - and it all started back in ‘03.”</p><p>“So who was doing this before them?” Ro asked the obvious question.</p><p>Nate pulled one of his notebooks from his backpack, turned to a specific page full of handwritten notes, and showed it to her. She scanned over the page for a moment before she reached one name circled several times at the bottom. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”</p><p>“In 1998, <em> White Lawn Entertainment </em> bought <em> Old Gallagher's Haunted House </em>,” Nate explained with a sigh, “evicting the old management and replacing them with their own. But, it only brought trouble, with guests claiming the place was either cursed or doing something to their kids who always seemed a little weird after going there.” He raised an eyebrow. “Sound familiar?”</p><p>He pointed to the next page, a string of reports he found online. “It also attracted Federal attention when the real FBI poked around to investigate a possible children smuggling ring.” Nate shuddered a little at the thought. “A smuggling ring that the Bennells would later continue to use, no doubt, but only after Cliff and Vic's ‘generation’ perfected their grab-and-go replacement system, not to mention rebuilt the Gallagher's reputation from scratch.”</p><p>Ro stared at Nate, blinking her eyes in surprise.</p><p>Nate shrugged and smiled bashfully, or at least feigned bashfulness to cover his pride. “What? I’ve been on bed-arrest with literally nothing better to do.”</p><p>“It’s ‘bed-rest’,” Matt corrected him, but with the look Nate shot him, he figured his brother had meant what he said. But it wasn't Matt’s fault he’d had to force his brother to take some time out after everything they’d been through!</p><p>“So what does this have to do with you being dead?” Ro asked, once again trying to keep the brothers focused.</p><p>“Ro,” Matt turned to her a little more, “everywhere we've gone to with all this Afton stuff, White Lawn has been there.” Both of Matt’s hands were in his hair at this point, the brown waves pushed up in all directions. “The Freddy’s in Burbank, the facility where Afton kept me, the Freddy’s in Caliente, White Lawn even sold the steel framing used at Camp Wannapee. Now this, an actual business under their umbrella run by new monsters no one has ever seen, specifically to try to spread out their new species? And no sign of Afton or Freddy's anywhere in sight?”</p><p>“And it took a while, but the app that Jonathan and his team used to get into the vampire nest, the same one the nest was using to catfish victims? <em> Point </em>?” Nate leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and knit his fingers together. “It's parent company has a very small library, mostly because it's not an app publisher. It's owned by an entertainment company. More specifically…”</p><p>“White Lawn,” Ro guessed correctly. It felt like something big had shifted into place, a little more of the mystery revealed, and Ro didn’t like it. Going up against Afton was one thing, but some huge, faceless company that was somehow behind it all? That seemed like another thing altogether.</p><p>“Both of Afton’s cursed objects we’ve encountered so far have come from White Lawn,” Matt added. “The Springtrap animatronic was sold from Burbank via White Lawn, and the steel framework at the camp was manufactured in a White Lawn factory.”</p><p>“So,” Nate went on, getting back to Ro’s question, “if at least one of us is dead, we'll be even better at hiding, so they can lose our scent, and we can keep tracking down the spell and destroying the sigils. It's probably better that it's me. I've got the history with Freddy's, and I'm the hunter. At this point, getting Dad off our backs is just a bonus. White Lawn is the one we're going to have to look out for.”</p><p>Ro sat back, resting against the table behind her, and she pressed the tips of her fingers to her forehead, trying to process everything she’d just been told. Finally, after a few moments and some breathing exercises, she looked up at the boys again. “You're really going after this evil mega-monopoly, aren't you?”</p><p>Matt shrugged, a little pale at the thought himself. “It’s not our fault our paths keep crossing.”</p><p>“No, but we aim to make it their problem,” Nate added quickly and sat up, removing the hood from his head.</p><p>“And you’re not running from John anymore?” Ro asked, mostly focused towards Nate, though she noticed Matt flinch over her shoulder.</p><p>“John’s… not a concern anymore,” Nate said softly. He turned his head towards the water where clone-Steven had stopped running around to just stand and look at everything. “If he does catch up with us, so what? I’m not bailing again, not… not on my family.”</p><p>Matt’s eyes widened a little. As far as he knew, it was the first time that Nate had referred to them as his family, not just John, but it only made his cheeks burn with shame. He’d really screwed up on this one, again, and he hadn’t yet had the time to apologize for any of it.</p><p>“Well,” Ro said with a smile as she reached up to smack Nate’s arm, “if you’re sure about this, you’re going to need my help!”</p><p>“I don’t know about-” Matt started.</p><p>At the same time, Nate said, “Haven’t you always been doing that?”</p><p>Ro bounced up and down a little, face beaming with excitement. “Yes, but it's more official now! You've got a quest! An end goal!”</p><p>“If you say ‘end game’,” Nate muttered under his breath at the same time Ro said-</p><p>“An end game!”</p><p>He scowled. “Darn it.”</p><p>Matt moved down from where he sat on top of the table to instead settle onto the bench on Ro’s other side. “Ro, we've had that since we started hunting. That's <em> why </em>we started hunting. Killing Afton? Getting him out of my head? Nate's head?”</p><p>Ro quickly raised her hands to either side so that they were practically covering the brother’s faces, as if to silence their protests and snarky comments. “Shush, shush!” She shut her eyes to bask in the moment. “Just let me enjoy this!”</p><p>The boys frowned at each other around Ro, and nodding, they silently got up while her eyes were still closed and tip-toed towards the beach. Behind them, Ro opened her eyes to find them both gone, and she scoffed loudly. “Boys!”</p><p>They broke into a full sprint then, laughing as Ro tried to chase after them but didn’t make it far before she had to kick off her high heels. As they neared the kids, Branch sprinted at them, and Nate knelt in the sand to catch the dog in a hug before he was tackled by the little guy who covered him in more kisses, everyone laughing as Nate sputtered and tried to fend him off.</p><p>Matt hugged himself tight and watched with a smile, that cold spot in his chest shrank and shrank until he could hardly feel it anymore, and at least for that moment, he felt happy and warm again, like Afton was just a bad nightmare.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They returned one last time to the trailer park. Paris watched on from her porch as Nancy got everything in order for the other Steven to leave with Ro. He didn’t have much to take with him, of course, just a few changes of clothes tucked into one of Steven’s old backpacks. Steven handed over the coloring book and a box of pencils, and Nancy gave him one of her stuffed animals. Then fidgeting with his hair and the collar of his buttoned shirt, she pulled him into a tight hug.</p><p>Turning back to Paris, the little boy strode up the steps to give her a good-bye hug as well, which Paris returned gratefully. Before he went, she plucked one of her fake flowers from a pot, a bright yellow marigold, and tucked it into the zipper of his hoodie. He beamed up at her in thanks.</p><p>After their good-bye’s, they all turned towards Matt, Nate, and Ro, and dropping his head, the other Steven walked towards Ro’s Jeep where she helped him into his seat and buckled him in tight. Before she could close the door, though, Nancy called out, “Wait!”</p><p>She raced over to the Jeep, hopped up onto the seat beside the other Steven, and placed their foreheads together. Matt frowned as he watched some of the fear and anxiety leave the little boy’s face. It seemed like an odd gesture, but it was over quickly. And Nancy wrapped him up in another hug.</p><p>“You take care of yourself, you hear?” she demanded, her voice choked with tears. “Don't make me track you down. You know I can.”</p><p>He rested his head against her shoulder. “I won’t. Take care of Steven for me.”</p><p>“I will,” Nancy promised, her voice breaking completely as she gave one last squeeze. Then she drew back, brushed his hair back from his face, pressed a kiss to his forehead, and hopped back down from the Jeep.</p><p>Going back to join Steven by their trailer, Nancy noticed that Branch was still lying at Nate’s feet. “Come on, Branch. Come on.”</p><p>But Branch didn’t move.</p><p>“Branch, come on, boy.” Nancy knelt down a bit and held out her hand for the dog to come. “Branch?”</p><p>But the dog peered up at Nate, whining softly until Nate, gripping his hands tight at his sides, nodded towards Nancy. “Go on.”</p><p>Slowly Branch stood up and loped over to the kids before he dropped in a heap at the bottom of the steps with a sigh and looked up at them with round puppy-dog eyes. Nate turned away, trying not to get upset over a dog that wasn’t even his, and he noticed the other Steven waving to him from the window of the Jeep. So he smiled and waved back.</p><p>He really hoped the kid would turn out okay.</p><p>Matt turned back to Ro as she opened the door to her side of the Jeep, preparing for the long drive home. “You sure you can make it back to the Roadhouse?”</p><p>“Darling please, I’ve driven much longer with much less precious cargo,” Ro said, putting her hands on her hips and looking determined.</p><p>Matt just engulfed her in another hug. He’d been so happy to see her, he didn’t even have the words to express it, and he didn’t want her to go again so soon. But at least now he had the hope of seeing her again. “Thanks, Ro. I can’t even begin to-”</p><p>“There’s plenty you can do,” Ro told him, squeezing him back. “For starters, you can call that lady of yours! As much as I love a good pining romance, I think I’m just about as eager for your quarantine to end as you are!”</p><p>Nate shuffled over, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, and hood over his head again. “Topical. Thanks, Ro.” He smiled as she turned her face towards him. “Call us if you need anything.”</p><p>Ro fluttered over and hugged him as well, and after a moment, Nate put his arms around her, too. “You too,” and dropping her voice to the tiniest whisper, she added, “And no more binge drinking. You owe yourself and your brother better than that.”</p><p>Nate ducked his head, feeling a little like a scolded child. “Yes ma’am.”</p><p>Satisfied that her ducks were in a row, Rosanna headed back and got into the driver’s seat. As the Jeep pulled away, everyone stood around and waved until it disappeared. Nate felt twisted up inside for a number of reasons - all of them having to do with what their future held, and he turned his head to look at Matthew.</p><p>“Damn. I feel sick.”</p><p>Matt nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I know what you mean. They can’t all have happy endings.”</p><p>“Hell, at this point I'd settle for a nice ending.” Nate twisted at his friendship bracelet, thinking of that kid and what the future held for him, but Nate had a feeling that Ro wouldn't rest until she knew he was going to be taken care of. “If I ever wanted to drink…”</p><p>Eyes wary and brow wrinkled, Matt turned back to his brother, but Nate held up both hands in relent. “Hey, that thirty day coin ain't gonna win itself.” He swallowed then and paled a little. “Besides, we all know what happened last time I went drinking.” The memory of Vic cornering him at the haunted house turned his stomach sour, and he could still feel her hands around his wrists and her lips...</p><p>Matt patted him on the back as Nate shuddered and turned when he heard someone approaching behind them. Nancy stuffed her hands deep into the pockets of her jean jacket, glancing up at Matt through her lashes. “So,” she said with a shrug.</p><p>“So…” Matt tucked his hands into his own pockets.</p><p>Nancy squinted at him. “You’re not FBI, are you?”</p><p>Matt gave a sideways smirk at her. “What gave it away?”</p><p>“I’m good at reading people,” she said and rocked back and forth, her head tilted to the side. “Besides, Branch likes you, and he doesn’t really like anybody.”</p><p>“Especially if they’re not human,” Matt added, and Nancy sighed, glancing back the way that the red Jeep had gone. A sad smile spread across her face, and Matt returned it. “Nancy, I am sorry, for what it’s worth.”</p><p>She shook her head at him, a hand held out to stop him. “I got my little brother back. And Ro will take good care of that one. I just wish I could do more.”</p><p>Matt’s eyes widened a little. “I don't think there's anything more you could have done. For either of them.” If anyone had held their ground and done the grunt work on this hunt, it was Nancy. While the brothers were tripping over themselves and their copious amounts of trauma, she was making sure the kids got out of it alive. Matt sighed but wasn’t loath to admit, “You're a good big sister.”</p><p>Nancy glanced towards Nate. “I guess you would know.”</p><p>Matt wasn’t so sure about that, but to be fair, he was sure of so little anymore. Instead, he decided to bring up something that had been weighing on his mind since they started this little misadventure. “Nancy, can I ask you a question?”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow at him. “Sure.”</p><p>He rubbed at the back of his neck and watched Nate wander over to the Firebird and check to make sure everything in the trunk was in order. “How did you know Steven got nabbed at Gallagher's? I mean how did you see it? You weren't there.”</p><p>Nancy took a deep breath in through her nose, pressing the palms of her hands together as she let her gaze wander away from Matt. “When our parents died, and it was just us, I started... seeing Steven. Everywhere, all the time, whenever I closed my eyes, even when he was at school and I was at work.”</p><p>She put her arms around herself, her brow wrinkling up with concern, like it was something that she knew didn’t make sense. “If anything bad happened to him, even a paper cut, I saw it.”</p><p>Matt regarded her closely, but again, she seemed to be telling the truth, as far as she knew anyway.</p><p>“I can peer into his head too, if he wants me to. I usually don't, but if he's too caught up in negative emotions, sometimes I can take some of it, or help him remember something happy.” She smiled, tears filling up the corners of her eyes as she remembered helping the other Steven, so much anxiety filling his little chest. Nancy swept the tears away quickly. “I can usually tell when people are lying too, that's how I knew you weren't FBI, Matthew Patrick.”</p><p>Her eyes met Matt’s again, and he gawked a little at what she was implying. “Wait, you’re a…? But I thought they didn’t exist.”</p><p>Again, Nancy shrugged. Apparently she didn’t know much more about this than Matt himself. “I guess so. But Steven - he's not like me. I've never met anyone like me, actually, but Paris always says I take after my mom in ways I can't even see yet. Maybe I have, and just never realized it.”</p><p>Matt swept a hand through his hair as he tried to process it all, because something deep down was starting to line up. Nancy smiled bashfully and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I guess it explains why no one in town likes me very much." Her voice trailed off a little as her gaze made its way back up to Matthew's worried eyes. "Matt, thank you. Really. And,” she edged a little closer to him, dropping her voice to a whisper, “I know you're scared for him. But you don't need to be.”</p><p>Her eyes met his, and Matt was struck by how far she was beyond her years. “Nate will be alright. He just has to learn to manage it.”</p><p>Matt stared at her, a little stunned. He wasn’t sure exactly what she meant, but somehow, her words struck a cord in his chest, leaving him feeling relieved. As she turned back to the trailer and stooped down to excitedly pet Branch - though the dog didn’t respond with nearly his usual level of enthusiasm - Matt turned to his brother. Nate was still standing by the Firebird, waiting for him.</p><p>Slowly, Nate’s eyes moved from Branch to his older brother. “You ready?”</p><p>With an encouraging smile, Matt nodded his head, and they both got ready to go. Digging into his pocket, Nate drew out his keys and as they jingled in his hand, he heard a bark behind him and froze. He turned back to Branch who had stood up, ears perked. Nate just set his jaw and looked away again before Nancy glanced between the two of them and made up her mind.</p><p>She smiled down at Branch and nodded in Nate’s direction. “Go on, you.” Nate spun around at the words, staring at her in open shock.</p><p>Branch darted towards Nate in an instant, not an ounce of hesitation in his small canine body as he threw himself into Nate’s arms. Kissing Nate all over his face and wiggling happily in his arms, Branch yipped excitedly, and Nate hit his knees, petting the dog all over. He looked up as Nancy wandered over.</p><p>“I never liked the name ‘Branch.’ But they say it's bad luck to change a dog's name. Well, for one owner to do it.” Nancy held out Branch’s leash to Nate. “I'm sure you can come up with something better.”</p><p>Nate stared up at her with eyes full of shock. “Nancy,” he started, a bit of a scoff to his tone, “I can barely-”</p><p>“Keep yourself afloat?” Nancy finished for him with a knowing smirk. "Yeah, I know, but," she placed the leash into his hand, “here's something worth floating for.”</p><p>Nate looked from Nancy to Branch and then to Matt. His big brother was beaming and just shrugged his shoulders with a laugh. Hearing no objections, Nate jumped to his feet, wrapped his arms around Nancy, and spun her in a circle. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Then he set her back on her own feet and turned back to his very own dog.</p><p>“You ready to go boy? Huh? You ready?” Nate knelt down again and scratched behind Branch’s ears. “Look at you, Mr. Handsome. It's illegal to be that cute!”</p><p>If Branch’s enthusiastic reaction was anything to go by, the dog seemed perfectly thrilled and continued to cover Nate’s face in a layer of slobber before Nate stood up again and brushed himself off. Nate led him over to the Firebird, opened up the door, motioned for him to jump in, and then climbed into the driver’s seat after him.</p><p>Matt gave Nancy a questioning look, just to make sure she was okay with this.</p><p>“They need each other,” Nancy told him with a smile, and Steven ran forward to take her hand, leaning against her side and happily waving good-bye to Branch. And Matt couldn't very well argue with that, especially seeing the light in his brother's eyes.</p><p>With a final wave to the kids and to Paris, Matt hopped into his Prius and led the way out of the trailer park and back onto the road beyond.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Epilogue (The Three Musketeers)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The goodest boys, together at last.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yet Another Crappy Motel<br/>
November, 2011</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a long drive home, too long to make in one afternoon and certainly not after everything they’d been through. Matt knew they both needed the break, even if Nate wouldn’t openly admit it, so they stopped at yet another crappy motel to grab a few hours of rest before driving the final stretch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt hadn’t meant to fall asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then the nightmares returned in full force, a barrage of burning buildings, glowing symbols, his friends lying in gory heaps at his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Matt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the swirling mess of nightmarish memories twisted with his greatest fears, Matt turned to see Nate coming towards him, confused, stumbling. When he saw Matt’s eyes, he froze. “You’re not my brother. You’re not-” But his words were cut short, a wide gash, curved like a smile spread across his throat. Nate reached up with fumbling fingers to try to staunch the flow of blood, gagging, sputtering, falling to his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt looked down to see the silver blade in his hand, coated red. Nate made an awful, pained gurgling sound and fell to his side, his brown eyes wide and unseeing, and Matt screamed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke in a panic, muscles seized tight and skin covered in cold sweat. His arms swept around him, and he heard his laptop clatter to the ground somewhere to his right as he slipped off the bed and hit the floor hard. Gasping, unable to take a full breath, Matt tried to untangle the knot in his chest with fingers pressed hard against his rib cage like he could reach inside and save himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But nothing worked. His whole body shook violently, uncontrollably. He reached for the other bed, for his brother, for anything that would make it stop, but Nate was gone. As was his duffel, his keys, everything. It was all gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate had left him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt’s breathing stopped altogether for a full thirty seconds before - knuckles bruising the skin of his chest - he finally forced his lungs to work again if only to take one sharp inhale of breath before he scrabbled desperately for his phone. But it was no use. His hands shook, fingers unable to press the buttons, the phone fell from his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm himself - think of Stephanie, think of home, think of anything but the fact that he was dying. He was dying - oh God.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt didn’t hear the door open over the sound of his heart hammering out of control, blood pulsing in his ears, each ragged, stabbing breath violently hitching in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, stuff’s already in the car, and I got breakfast, sorta. You want…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt didn’t see Nate drop everything he was carrying and race to his side. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to block out the memories, the nightmares, he couldn’t tell the difference anymore. He didn't hear Nate call his name over and over. All Matt could hear was the sound of Afton's laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he did feel his brother’s hands grab his shoulders, pull Matt up into a sitting position against the bed, squeeze tight to shake him out of the panic attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Matt? Come on, big guy, look at me, okay?” Nate grabbed the back of Matt’s neck. For a moment, Matt’s eyes flickered open again, and Nate felt a surge of hope that maybe he would snap out of whatever this was before it got much worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when Matt laid eyes on his brother, fear shot through his heart. With both hands, he shoved Nate back and scrambled back from him. “Don’t -” He gasped, his lungs aching like they were going to shred themselves against his ribs. “Don’t come near me,” his breath hitched between each desperate, pleading word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt could feel Afton beneath his skin, hear that awful, ringing, echoing laughter in his ears. If Afton took over again, if Matt couldn’t hold him back - he couldn’t get near Nate (mine, MINE, <em>MINE</em>), he couldn’t go home. He was a danger, a ticking time-bomb waiting to go off. The closer he got to his family, the closer he brought Afton to putting a knife through their hearts. Or worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate held up his hands slowly and didn’t make a move towards his brother. Matt’s eyes were darting around the room but always returned to Nate, to each little tick of movement he made like he was ready to run. “Easy, easy,” Nate breathed. “You - you have to calm down, okay? You have to focus on breathing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate felt some of Matt’s panic in turn. He was usually the one melting down, usually the one that had to be coached back from the edge. Matthew was - as far as Nate was concerned - Matthew was the reasonable one, levelheaded and brilliant and definitely not the mess that Nathan was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that was before he had Afton crawling around inside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sobbing and scrabbling back until he couldn’t go any further, Matt felt the symbol on his skin start to burn hotter and hotter. He tore at it with his fingernails, clawing desperately, almost as if to rip it off, tear Afton out of him by force if he had to. But whether Matt was scared or not, Nate moved towards him then, grabbed Matt by the wrists even as his brother fought him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No - no - you can’t,” he pleaded, head smacking against the wall hard as he tried to free himself from Nate’s grasp. "You can't - He'll..." <em>He'll hurt you again</em> - I'll <em>hurt you again.</em></span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t let you hurt yourself,” Nate said and hugged Matt tight to his chest, pinning Matt’s arms between them so he couldn’t continue scratching at the sigil. “And I know you won’t hurt me either. It’s going to be okay - we’re going to be okay.” He rocked them back and forth slowly, led Matt through each breath, in and out, until Matt gave up trying to fight and just slumped against his little brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated over and over against Nate’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t you,” Nate whispered, one hand resting on the back of Matt’s head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Matt screamed and gagged, fighting to keep his dinner from the previous night in his stomach. “No, I should’ve known it wasn’t you. I should’ve seen the signs. I should’ve - the only way I knew the real you was when I saw…” A sob shook his chest. “I could see you didn’t trust me. You didn’t trust me to know which was which, and that's how I knew.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate froze a moment before he went back to rocking. “I don’t - that’s not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it’s true, I saw it.” Matt fought to pull back again, but Nate wouldn’t let him. He wouldn’t stop hugging him tighter, and as much as Matt wanted to be comforted - he didn’t deserve it. “But even then I couldn’t save you. Something - something stopped me. I think it was…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a shuddering breath. “Nate, Afton stopped me. I don’t know why, but I know it was him. I felt him stop me from shooting the clone.” Matt felt Nate go rigid, and they both stopped moving. “And if he can control me without fully taking over now… I’m a threat, to you, to Stephanie, to every kid I pass on the street-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt shuddered - disgusted at the thought of what Afton could do through him. Disgusted with himself for not being able to stop it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Nate just leaned his head forward onto Matt’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of Matt’s spiraling thoughts halted at once, and he blinked the tears from his eyes. “You’re…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Matt, you gave up everything for me, to get me away from my dad, and I still thought you’d leave me. That’s why I acted like such an idiot - I thought I could prove what I already knew, that no one will really stick around.” Nate shut his eyes, shaking a little himself. “But I was just making everything worse for you. I never stopped to think - I was so consumed with my own crap, I didn't realize you were falling apart, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt was stunned into silence, his breathing shallow but steadier as he listened to Nate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just found out about Afton, about how I lied to you, and you still tried to make this work. You left your wife, your home, everything, and you just wanted to protect me.” Nate gripped the back of Matt’s shirt in both his fists. “That’s more than anyone has ever done for me, and I swear - we’re going to beat this. We’re going to beat Afton and White Lawn, and we’re going to fix this. And - And I'll protect you, too, even if you think you don't need it...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s using me to keep himself alive,” Matt murmured, finally putting into words the thought that had haunted him since this all began. “I’m like a - like a horcrux. Just like all the other sigils we’ve found, Nate. He’s trying to put himself back together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, Nate leaned back. He kept an eye on Matt’s hands, just to make sure, but Matthew didn’t make a move, just sat there, with his head bowed and his fists pressed against his ribs. “The sigils carry a piece of him. It’s how he influences people, twists them up until they’re so enamored with him, they’re willing to kill a child for him. He still needs the souls, now more than ever, I think.” One hand moved to touch the sigil on his chest, but that was all. “If we destroy all of them, before he claims any more souls, he might finally be gone for good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But,” Nate struggled to find the words, feeling more than a little sick, “how do we get the piece of him out of you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt hadn’t thought that far ahead. The idea that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>was part of this, Afton’s effort to bring himself back from the dead, that he was not only one of the poor saps influenced by the sigils but was instead a horcrux himself - he hadn’t really had time to even allow himself that realization, until now. He shrugged his shoulders. Maybe they couldn't. Maybe they had to deal with him the same way that they had all the horcruxes so far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pam,” Nate said suddenly, eyes widening, and Matthew finally looked up at him, confusion in his bleary gaze. “She destroyed the sigil on the steel frame without destroying the framing itself. Plus, she always knew you were still under the influence, even when I didn't.” Nate swallowed and let that small flame of hope flicker between them for a moment before asking, “How many of these things are there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt took a deep breath, his first since he’d woken up, and he let it out slowly. His hands both dropped into his lap. “Five. There’s five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that means there’s two down, and two to go. And then we’ve just got to get you sorted out.” Nate twisted his bracelet around his wrist, giving a half-smile as Matt looked up at him again. Then, something struck him. “Do you think... do you think Charlie is…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, Matt shook his head. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I haven't figured out how she's involved in this. I really don't even know what she is or how she's in your head.” He rubbed one hand up his other arm, feeling the goosebumps there. “She can't influence anything in the real world, and no one else has ever seen her. That doesn't read like any other ghost or poltergeist. She's kind of a mystery.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate nodded, and they fell into another long silence there on the floor, their legs brushing together and their breathing slowly returning to normal. Finally, Nate scanned Matt’s face. “We’re gonna get him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt looked away, his face was still blotchy and damp, and now it burned even redder. But Nate just leaned towards him and took one of his wrists. “Matt? We're </span>
  <em>
    <span>going </span>
  </em>
  <span>to get him. We're going to get Afton, we're going to get White Lawn, we're going to get whatever the hell else decides to stand in our way. You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not your job,” he murmured under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tough luck.” Nate gave Matt’s wrist a reassuring squeeze. “From now on, no more secrets. We're clearly no good to anyone when we're fighting, and Afton's already promised once he's going to do his absolute damnedest to break us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt watched him, his eyes, the earnestness there. He wanted to believe him so, so badly. “You really think we can do this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell if I know,” Nate said and they both laughed a little, Matt wiping at his face. Nate shrugged his shoulders. “Frankly, I just don't want to give him the satisfaction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt gave a genuine smile then, as tired and shaky as it was. It felt good to know they were on the same side again, that they had all their cards on the table. “You’re petty, you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate smirked at him and grabbed his shirt, pulling him in for another hug, one that Matt finally returned. “Runs in the family.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning against his little brother, Matt let himself breathe for a few moments, let himself revel in that bold, ridiculous pettiness for a bit. If Afton wanted him to feel isolated, misunderstood, like a heartless monster - wouldn't it drive him crazy to see Matt like this? He'd hug his brother, and he'd go home to his wife, and he'd pet his cat, and he'd enjoy it. Then Matt blinked. “Hey, where’s your dog?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Nate gasped and jumped to his feet. “He’s still in the car! With our milkshakes!” He burst out of the door at top speed, and Matt couldn’t help laughing at him before he heard the telltale sound of his phone ringing. He got up, shuffled back to his bed where things were an absolute mess after his panic attack, and fished through the covers until he found it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he melted at the sight, answering quickly. “H-hey, Stephanie.” Matt looked up as Nate returned with a cardboard tray of two milkshakes and Branch on his leash. While Nate worked to get their food divided, Matt knelt down as Branch trotted over and, as if sensing that Matt was still a little shaky, pressed against Matt’s chest and rested his head on Matt’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no I missed you, too, Steph. God I missed you,” Matt said with a shaky laugh as Stephanie’s voice filled all the cracks inside him. Nate, grinning from ear to ear, sat down on the floor nearby with their food and a bag of candy which he went to first, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drawing out a box of Milk Duds, he held one of the small candies up to Branch as if to compare colors with the dog's chocolate brown and caramel fur and then shook his head before popping the candy in his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matt petted the dog’s back gently before wiping his eyes again on his sleeve. “You talked to Ro? Yeah, yeah, we got to catch up a little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Meanwhile, Nate held up a bag of M&amp;M’s - nope. A Hershey kiss - nope. Matt glanced over at him over Branch’s scruffy head. “Nate? He’s right here. He says hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nate flashed a big smile and waved at the phone like Steph could see him. “Tell her I have a dog now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, we’re good. He says - he says he has a dog now,” Matt chuckled and made a grabby motion towards his sandwich, unable to move with Branch fully on top of him. Nate handed it over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he drew out the last of his candy, a pack of Rolos which he held up to Branch, eyebrows raised. The dog’s tail wagged, pink tongue lolling out of his mouth happily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he's not just saying he has a dog now, he actually has a dog now. It's kind of a long story,” Matt continued before he paused and looked to Nate again. “What's his name?” Seeing Nate hold up the candy, Matt grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about Rylo?” Nate asked the dog who leaned forward to lick Nate’s cheek. “What do you say, buddy? You ready to hunt down some evil sons of bitches?” Rylo barked happily, and Matt had to quickly pull their food out of the way as he leaped over to tackle Nate instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you hear that?” Matt asked and brushed his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, we’ll be home real soon. Can’t wait.” More tears threatened at the corners of his eyes, but Matt just hung his head and smiled like everything in the world was alright. “I love you, too, so much. Bye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hanging up, he glanced over at Nate again who managed to push Rylo off of him just long enough to sit up and offer out his milkshake for a toast, which Matt laughed at but happily returned. Nate nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got work to do.”</span>
</p>
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